Stones and Mosaics
by crazy-prune
Summary: Jibbs. What if after Gibbs returns from Mexico things weren't quite as smoothed out, and getting past the communication issues only leads to more problems. N.B. Rating M for Chapter 2 and 16 only
1. Communication Issues

A/N - This is just the first part of a story, maybe series - we'll see, that I was asked to write by dare-denymecider.

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Jethro Gibbs allowed his eyes to wander from the endless piles of reports that sat upon his desk – begging to be written. He had not missed this in Mexico. He cast his gaze around the Squad Room and upon each of the members of his team. Something had changed. Something in the team make-up had changed dramatically since he had left for Mexico, although it made him feel slightly alienated, he couldn't help but feel it was a good thing for them.

Ziva seemed more comfortable in her place in the team and he was thankful for that, there had always been something that made him feel uneasy around her and vice versa, in his absence she had become an equal in the team and that, he was sure, was comforting to even her. It seemed stupid to underestimate the woman's instincts – she still had those – she knew she was being watched by him, but she ignored it as his eyes shifted.

He knew he'd always held Tony back, during his entire career on the Gibbs team. Without him there, Tony had become an all new character. The team went to him for guidance now, and the responsibility was shown in not just his work, but everything he did. If there was one thing Gibbs could say for certain, it would be that he was proud of Tony.

_Probie_ – McGee had changed too. Now officially a Special Agent, he wore his badge with pride and Gibbs wore as much pride for him as he did for himself.

A still shape caught in the corner of his eye. It would appear that he was not the only one watching over his team. He looked up to meet the eyes of what he already recognised as the Director; she averted her gaze quickly, but was not saved the embarrassment of being caught watching them, watching him. Gibbs noticed how she bowed her head, her gesture reiterating all of the changes that had taken place during his break.

Everything had changed in his absence, but since his official return he could see the differences more clearly; his team had grown up, but the changes in Jenny were different, and he wasn't sure he liked them. Thinking her name, he looked back up to the balcony to find that she was gone and the MTAC door was swinging closed. He closed his own eyes simultaneously.

The entire dynamic of their relationship had changed. Before they could have called one another friends, now it seemed as if there were miles of ground between them and the more he tried to ignore it, the further they seemed to pull apart. Jethro could not help but blame himself, his track record with women was a disaster, but never before had he thought it would affect their friendship. He had only been back a few weeks, but more than anything else he missed their arguments, whether strictly professional or not, they were an indicator of normality between them. A voice in his head screamed that he should take the chance and talk to her, but he was scared that confronting her would drive yet another wedge between them; that he would loose her friendship forever.

_**&Stones&**_

A sinking feeling fell through Jen's stomach as she heard the two voices outside her office; they were so civil – no longer would Cynthia's shouting indicate Gibbs' abrupt entrance to her office. She longed for him to burst into her office like he used to, she never thought she's admit it, but she had always enjoyed his sheer arrogance. No longer would it happen; she heard him ask her receptionist politely, almost with the enthusiasm of a wrong-doing schoolboy who had been sent to the Headmistress' office. The idea made her cringe. When had she become the evil Headmistress? She hated the civility between them, hated that the fact they had once been close friends, but now retreated behind the facades of Director and her dutiful employee the Agent.

The knock on the door, shouldn't have, but it still caught her off guard. "Director," he greeted as he entered.

Jenny fought the urge to call him by his first name and revert to the smiley, flirty tone she had always saved for him. The Director, however, saved her, "What can I do for you today, agent Gibbs?" She gestured for him to sit, but it appeared he would no longer take a seat in her presence either. He did, however, move closer to her desk, but as Jenny noted, far enough away that he did not tower over her and left the door, that had in times past muffled their raised voice, open wide behind him.

A rush of anguish filled Jenny's body as she realised the meaning of his actions; he no longer wanted to be alone in the same room as her. She blinked away the thought, discarding it the best she could, but it remained at the back of her mind. She was afraid to display any sort of emotion in front of him anymore.

"I thought…"

The open-ended comment led her to think, just for a moment, that he might be the braver of the two of them and about to address the open-ended issues between them. The hesitation in his words did in fact indicate the thought that crossed his mind, raising her hopes and crashing them back down to Earth in the same sentence.

"I thought that you might want an update on the Dansen case."

Jenny blinked again, harder this time; bringing her focus back to the case at hand with great force. "Oh…oh, yes. That would be useful. I'm sure SecNav will be pleased to hear of any developments on the case." A gasp of surprise caught in her throat. But she suppressed it, as Gibbs handed a report to her.

It was a fact of life as far as she was concerned: Gibbs never did paperwork, unless tortured into doing so; the sight in front of her contradicted everything she had ever believed in. He felt it was his job to investigate the crimes, not to document them and be tied to his desk by paperwork, well, he used to.

"Well…" she hesitated for a moment, stuck in the awkwardness of the entire situation between them, "thank you, for this."

She could have kicked herself as the words crossed her lips, before she had even thought them: "Is there anything else I can do for you, Agent Gibbs?"

He paused a moment before backing off so slightly from her desk. "No, nothing else. Ma'am." He left faster than she would have expected as Jenny threw her head down into her hands in despair. How could she be so stupid? So blunt? She hit her knee into the underside of her desk as she repeated the mantra to herself.

_**&Mosaics&**_

Jenny had not yet worked out why she was here . She was standing in the cold, the rain only kept off of her by the small porch in which she was stood. She was guilty, she certainly felt it. She had not spoken to Gibbs since she had so rudely pushed him from her office two nights before, and now she needed to apologise. _Why now? Why here?_ She asked herself; _why couldn't she just say sorry to him at work?_

She turned on the step, her back to the door as she mulled the thought over in her mind. Still, something drew her back to here and now, she could catch him off his guard in his own home, but the already guilty conscience in her told her that it would be rude and unfair to sneak up on his like this.

_**&Stones&**_

Sanding down the wooden beams on the structure of his boat, Gibbs was completely unaware of the guilty conscience that was lingering, restless, on his doorstep. Recently he'd taken to drinking just a little more than he used to, not too much for him that he would pass out, but just enough that he could let sleep take him more quickly than usual. Well, that was the way he chose to see it. It numbed the sense of insufficiency that plagued him whenever he saw his team who no longer had any need for him; as much as he hated to admit it, it was as much about his broken relationship with Jenny as anything else.

As he went to pour himself another glass of Bourbon, he stopped rooted to the spot, still facing the back wall of his basement as he strained to listen again. There was the presence of somebody in the room; the faintest sound of shallow breathing caught in his ears. As the intense, distinctive sweetness of her perfume lingered, as unsure as she, he recognised just who had joined him.

Standing atop the staircase, Jenny held her breath momentarily, her heart beating fiercely in her chest, as she continued to question her present actions. The thought to turn and take her leave slipped out of her mind, something in Gibbs' body language told her that he was already aware of her. He was standing below her on the basement floor, and in the somewhat dim light, she noted the glass of Bourbon perching in his right hand. She followed his movements with her eyes; as he stretched his neck to the side, she judged just how aware he was of her presence, and that it was making him feel uncomfortable._ There was no going back now._

"Jethro," she muttered, almost inaudibly, as though asking permission to enter his special place.

He did not turn as he granted it to her. He was desperate to keep his professional appearance. He slid the glass down between two pots of what might be determined paint stripper, not wanting to allow her to see him drinking or to know that the jazzed rocks between them were the reason for it. She would see through it all regardless, and he was acutely aware of her watching and scrutinising his movements from her higher position. Despite all his efforts, he knew the façade would fail, but for him it was easier than attempting to decipher the enigmatic and tangled thoughts, feelings and words that had passed between them.

"Director Shepard, what could possibly bring you to my basement at this hour?"

Taking no notice of the air of resentment in his words, Jenny descended the stairs; each one she took knotting more confidence into her as she chose to discard the wish that she hadn't come – now was not the time for it – _it was too late to go back now._

**_TBC..._**

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Please R&R. Makes me more confident about writing, the best stuff has yet to come.


	2. Talking

A/N - Rating change for this chapter.

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"_Director Shepard, what could possibly bring you to my basement at this hour?" _The question echoed around her head, and it was a good one. She realised the seconds were counting by as she just stood, paused and reflective. There was only really one thing she could say when it came down to it. "I owe you an apology, Jethro."

Gibbs turned, curiosity catching his features for just a flash of a second. "Never apologise…" he pointed his finger at her to emphasise his repetitive point.

"…it's a sign of weakness – I know." She cut in, the internal debate in her head was heightened by yet more questions as to how she should try and deal with the situation. For a woman who claimed to be good at politics – good at what she did – the entire situation seemed unreasonably difficult to her.

Outwardly Jethro showed the slightest disappointment, directing it at her in bending his rule, but inwardly he was touched by the motion; Jenny was clearly stronger than him when it came to the Hell-deep pit of issues between them. _She was offering him an olive branch_. He knew that it would hurt more, and he'd be more of a fool if he didn't take it, but he held back. "I probably don't need to tell you that, though. Do I?"

There was a hesitation in the room, and Gibbs sensed his boss' sudden un-surety; the confidence was waning in her, but it was most visible in the confusion that filled her eyes. The urge to slap himself round the back of his head became greater as he realised that if he didn't say or do something, the situation might be about to get more awkward. He took a step nearer to her, feeling her presence more the closer he got to her. "Jen…"

"I'm sorry Jethro. I'm sorry for how rude I was to you in my office the other night, it was uncalled for. And I'm sorry for…a lot has happened and changed, and if it's my fault…" Jenny's last words didn't make it out of her mouth as she swallowed them back, she was unsure about almost everything; unsure what or how this remoteness had happened to them, unsure what to say even though the isolation she felt begged her to talk to him - it was driving her crazy. Most of all unsure about how Jethro felt, if he wanted the close relationship and the confidence, that they'd once shared, back again or not.

She opened her mouth to speak, not knowing what she was going to say, but Gibbs got there first. Raising his hand to hush her, he took another step closer, feeling the change in her and the relief that, although she hid it, emanated from her body. Standing 4 or 5 feet from her, he could see her face and expressions properly in the dull light. "I'm sorry too, Jen, I've let things slip since the accident." He added one of his light jokes to lift the heavy mood, "don't tell me not to apologise, they're my rules!"

Jen smiled.

"Anyway, it's alright to say sorry between friends." Jethro chuckled at his own comment and was glad to see that it widened the smile on her face.

"We really need to talk, don't we?" Jenny began, finally reassured that she wasn't the only one uncomfortable about the past few weeks, "and properly this time."

Gibbs nodded in agreement with her. "Do you want a drink?" He gestured for her to take the one chair in his basement, but she shook her head, lowering herself to the ground she sat resting her back and head on his boat. He poured two 'glasses' anyway, one into the glass he'd been using, the other into his coffee mug, and came to sit beside her, leaning back on the next beam.

"I think you'll find you've had enough of that already," was the only comment she made. They were sitting close enough, against adjacent beams that she could lean over and take both out of his hands, placing them down to the right of her as she did so. "We, need to talk, not the drink."

As he looked down into the rich emeralds of her eyes that held his gaze, he knew she was right. "Where do you want to start?"

When Jenny had finished what she needed to say about her thoughts and feelings, she glanced down at the floor. He had not interrupted her once, and now she felt guilty for spilling her heart out to a man who'd been blown up only a few months previously. "I've missed you, Jethro." As the notion began to sink in, she realised that she had mimicked what he'd said to her only a year ago, hastily, but whole-heartedly she added: "and I'm prepared to do what it takes to save our friendship, because I need to be able to talk to you and I want you to trust me."

"I do, Jen." They sat in a comfortable, but for the hard floor, and companionable silence for a few minutes. "I've missed you too, Jen. But you have to understand it's different for me; I lost 15 years of my life, and though I remember most of it, there's still things I can't feel or remember feeling and it kills me."

Jenny watched as his eyes began to well up so slightly, and reached towards him, placing a comforting hand upon his own. She'd gotten closer to Gibbs in the past than most people ever had, but she had never known how to comfort him, because she'd never seen him truly feel anything in the way he had after the explosion. The memory was expelled from her mind; it had broken her heart to watch him suffer with the grief he had for his wife and daughter, but right now, wasn't about addressing her feelings - it was about his. _He would not let himself cry anymore_, she knew that he hated it. "I'm sorry, Jethro, you don't have to talk about this if you don't want to, I don't want to push you…"

Flipping over his hand so that the back of it rested against the floor, he cradled hers within his. "It's not your fault, Jen. The reason things have changed between us is because I've changed, because I'm confused right now." He hushed her again, before she could manage to say anything. "I'm confused about us; I remember our friendship before the explosion…"

Jenny cringed at hearing the word.

"…but I couldn't feel it, and I felt confused about you. I can remember us before that as well, but I can't remember how it really felt, and I want so much to know who we were then, so I wouldn't be cheating you and faking our friendship. It's screwed up, I know, but I'm so mixed up in my feelings for you, that I don't want to ruin what we already had…"

He was stopped mid sentence as he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Jenny shift towards him on the floor, in her eyes he could see the same mixed feelings reflected back at him.

"You really want to know, to understand, what it felt like?" Gibbs nodded his response to her question, unsure what she meant until she leaned in close, taking him by surprise.

A pair of warm and inviting lips caught his own with mastered accuracy and all the thoughts in his mind were obliterated. Slamming his eyes shut, he felt his hands delve into her hair; threading it through and around his fingers; the memories and feelings came flooding back to him as she opened her mouth to him, allowing his tongue to explore currently unclaimed territory. Her weight shifted on top of him as one of her legs came down on his left-hand side – pinning him between her warm body and the boat. As Jenny made no attempt to stop or pull back, he urged her on, slipping one hand under her jumper and onto the soft creamy skin of her back.

Shivering under his caressing touch, the need for oxygen overwhelmed her and she pulled back, keeping only a few inches between them. As she opened her eyes, Jenny felt her heart thumping erratically against her chest, her heavy breathing a result of the need of oxygen but also laced with the enormity of her actions. She watched Jethro's expressions of complete bewilderment, at a loss herself as to what she'd meant to achieve by kissing him. All she knew then was that she'd been lost in the moment. _It felt good._ It'd felt good to have his hands on her body and she couldn't shake the fleeting feelings and memories that flooded through her.

However much it was supposedly wrong, it felt overpoweringly right.

As Jethro removed his hand from her back, she immediately the loss of its warmth was cast over her. She found herself staring into a longing pair of grey-blue eyes, a touch of guilt flickering across them.

Jenny's left hand was still buried in his hair, her other tightly holding their bodies together. Feeling her pull away, he reluctantly relinquished his touch, immediately ashamed of the position he'd placed her in. The guilt seeped through him as he acknowledged how inappropriate his request of her had been, still as she remained there, her lips only inches from his, all he wanted was more from her. Jenny hesitated, not making a decision one way or the other.

There were so many reasons why this shouldn't happen between them, but she intoxicated him like no-one else, "Jen?"

There it was, she was convinced, in the way he breathed her name. She had her choice – and she made it.

In Jenny's eyes he saw the same longing mirrored in emerald green, the sight enough to cause a shiver to tickle down his spine. Her fingers brushed softly against his lips, replacing them so determinedly with her lips that it knocked him away.

Nothing was withheld in their second kiss, as a sudden need and hunger devoured the both of them. Shrouded in their moment, their tongues clashed fiercely and their hands tried to force items of clothing off of the other's skin. Feeling the urgency in the air, Jenny tugged ferociously at her jumper, tearing it over her head and discarding on the floor behind her, exposing her creamy white skin to the cool air. She moaned as hot, biting kisses trailed down her neck as the anticipation grew inside of her.

Responding to her, Jethro wrapped her legs tightly around his waist; pulling himself to his feet, he balanced her weight against a beam of the boat as more of his clothing was shed to the floor behind him. His erection tightened against his jeans as he felt Jen's nails scrape sensually down his back. Capturing the necessity of the moment, he shifted their combined weight, lowering Jen's back onto the rough concrete floor beneath his boat – a poignant place, he thought.

Jenny barely noticed the rough scratches that the floor nicked at her back as she moved, shedding both the last of hers and his clothing; she let out as small squeak as sharp cold of the concrete caught her off guard. Her breathing heightened as Jethro removed her bra, and his little sharp kisses were littered across her heaving chest and collarbone, drawing a long moan from her.

Feeling her hands travel down his body, Jethro hooked his finger around her damp panties and pulled them down her legs in a fluid motion, admiring and worshipping her body with his kisses, overwhelmingly glad to find that she was as ready as him. He caught her emerald eyes watching him and recognised her need; skipping over the foreplay, he plunged himself hard into her, allowing every sensation to wash over him - determining a strong fast rhythm that Jenny had no problem keeping to.

There was nothing careful about their love-making, the desperation and hunger grew with every thrust as Jenny wrapped her legs tightly to his body and flipped them over in order to speed up. Pushing and thrusting down on him harder and harder, the feel of the coarse skin of his fingers along her back, caused her to shiver, only intensifying her movements. She dug her nails into Jethro's flesh and ground her pelvic bone down forcefully into his as she came, the sounds she made muffled into his shoulder. Jethro's climax followed seconds later as the release in their orgasms encompassed both bodies, slick with a layer of sweat and chests heaving.

Jenny rolled onto the floor as she felt him finish. Neither spoke a word to break the spell of the moment. "Jen?" she heard him breathe her name, but made no attempt to respond apart from the hand that she clasped lightly over his.

Mesmerised by the woman lying next to him, Jethro had no idea what to say; to thank her seemed completely inappropriate, but so was the thought that he'd just slept with his boss. "What happens now?" Unnerved by her lack of response, he squeezed her hand, needing to know that things were not about to get weirder between them.

"I have no idea." Her response was short, as if she were almost in shock at her own actions and passions. She could not think for anything at the moment, unsure as to what had led her to become so carried away in the moment. "I think I should go now." Jethro's hand shot out to catch hers as she went to stand up.

"Please don't?"

Jenny shook her head as she reached for her underwear and turned her back to him as if almost ashamed as she re-dressed herself. "I need time to think." She heard him stand to his feet behind her and pull on his underwear; she could sense the concern that radiated from him. "I'm sorry about this, but this turned sour last time. I really need time to think."

He flinched at her words; it hadn't been entirely his fault, but the thought of having hurt her made him feel ashamed. As she finished dressing she turned back to him, unable to look him in the eye. As he watched her avoid his gaze, he winced at the guilt he felt over her. He plucked up the guts to say something as she walked towards the stairs: "Thank you, Jen."

She smiled lightly at him as she moved hesitantly up the first few steps, unsure if she could really leave like this, but if it would be more wrong to stay. "It was good." She left her comment as open and enigmatic as she felt about them right now. Her body yearned to stay, but she felt the hurt of their last relationship more vividly than she cared to admit. "Goodnight Jethro."

"'Night, Jen." He felt her presence leave him as watched her disappear from his basement.

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- A/N. Can you tell it's my first attempt at the M rating? Please R&R if you liked.


	3. Pressing Questions

A/N - I'm sorry it took me so long to get around to this update, but my exams have just started at school and everything's a little hectic. I was gonna say that I'd update every week, but I think just for the next 6 weeks I will try to update at least once every two weeks. Here goes:

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She caught his eye as she walked gracefully along the balcony. As he observed her, Gibbs noticed immediately from her calm body language that she was taking a break; admiring her body, he was sure she could feel his attention on her, as she gracefully turned towards the staircase – she was heading out.

"Ziva." He jumped to his feet as an idea hit him; he knew exactly who he needed to pull it off. Gibbs was careful not to draw too much attention to himself as he circled his own and stood in front of the Mossad officer's desk. "I have a job for you."

_**&Stones&**_

She sighed heavily as saw him coming toward her. He seemed to be heading straight towards her, she could see it in his eyes, and realised that her current position – Gibbs' favourite meeting room – was probably a set up. She made a mental note to have a chat to Ziva about this later; she'd had a feeling when the younger woman had stopped her in her tracks that something had been slightly off. If there was one place Jenny Shepard had avoided being for the past week it was sharing the same space as Gibbs. Pressing the lift button again, she prayed that the doors would close in time.

"Jen, wait," he called out to her as he quickened his pace, only feet away from the elevator doors.

Well aware that she would not be able to get out of this situation, she let out another deep sigh and waited.

Gibbs' hand shot between the elevator doors, forcing them to bounce back on themselves. Jenny, he noticed from the look she gave him, had already cottoned on to his actions. Eyes to the ground, he figured that maybe she was trying to dodge around him; guessing right, he moved to the side in order to block her path as he stepped into the lift.

Reluctantly, Jenny stepped back, but held his gaze as she watched the last chance she has to evade this situation disappear into a harsh silver metal as the elevator doors come to a close behind him.

"Jen," his voice almost pleaded with her; she was sure that if she could bring herself to look at them that his eyes would display the same pleasing and guilt-ridden aura that encompassed the small space. She gave no response, just followed his movements as he flicked the switch to stop the elevator.

The finger that he so delicately placed under her chin lifted her head so that she would look at him. "We need to talk about what happened, Jen."

_We need to talk. _It was very much true, his words touched on the guilt she felt for avoiding him and that night. If it hadn't been for her emotions guilt-tripping her into staying, the Director in her would have made more of an effort to get out of the situation, to avoid his questions that probed beneath her façade and to forget what had happened, but his light touch alone was overwhelming her senses.

As much as she'd tried to stay professional and forget, but it was if the memory of that night in his basement had been painted into the forefront of her mind, it followed her every time she allowed her mind to wander. Still, Jenny knew she needed more time to think about the implications of this before she formed a decision; as much as she'd tried, it struck her every time inadequate to say it was just sex. "Jethro, I can't…" she tore her eyes away, "if this is about last week, I can't…"

"What else would it be, Jen?" The sharp edge of the comment cut and stung for both of them.

"Jen, I'm sorry. That was unnecessary of me." Jethro mirrored her actions as he bowed his head, hating himself for not holding his tongue. He felt her pull away from him like tiny scratches against his skin as she turned her back to him.

His familiar presence came up behind her, her anger dissipating as a rough hand came to rest on her arm. "I don't know, Jethro. I just don't know anymore." Her voice rose to cover the despair she had at her own unsurety. "There are so many things in my head – I can't do this right now."

Unable to leave it so open, and hurt that she could, Jethro caught Jenny's slender wrist as she reached to reactivate the elevator. "Can't Jen, or won't?"

She stopped in her tracks, taken off guard by the contact he had with her wrist.

"I know this is hardly ideal Jen. But I know as well as you that you will regret walking away from here and now. I also know that you'll hide behind the Director's façade and sit on the figurative fence for as long as you can, but it's not fair on either of us."

Jethro watched her eyes as his words sank in; Jenny's eyes were the portal to her soul if you knew how to read her. He harboured strong feelings for her, but all he could see that she harboured was confusion, confusion that she had not let him see before. The confusion that seemed to be consuming her ate away at him. He could see the internal war waging between what Jenny wanted and what the Director knew she must do. He released his grip on her thankful to feel her touch linger against his hand.

Jethro recognised that she'd given him the floor, given him the chance to make the decision for her, he stepped in closer, heart beating rapidly, meeting her gaze.

_Pull yourself together Jenny. _Her mind screamed all sorts of things at her, confusion still rained around her as her breath sped up with anticipation. The debate ensued: it made sense to her to leave, Jethro left her with that chance by not pushing her; all the same something rooted her where she was – if for no other reason because this was not something they could both ignore.

_**&Mosaics&**_

"Ziva!" Tony threw a screwed up piece of paper at her as he called her name across the squad room.

Her hand jumped through the air, grasping the paper ball just before it hit the target of her head. "Ooh! Nicely caught Ziva!" She rolled her eyes as he mocked her, pulling her gaze from the elevator doors to mark her disapproval. Tony throwing things at her was staring to get a little irritating and was distracting her from what she was concentrating on. "Oh Tony; don't tell me you're at all surprised that I caught every single one you've thrown at me."

"Zivaaaaaa," he mocked again, a smirk spread wide across his face. "Give me some credit, I was pretty close."

In the sheer amusement of his comment, she snorted loudly. "Do not overestimate yourself Tony. I have caught and will catch every one you throw at me."

She turned her attention back to the elevator doors to see if there had been any change, calling his name, she attracted McGee's attention. "McGee, will you please tell Tony that he was nowhere near close!"

Threateningly, the sound of ripping and scrunching paper indicated that Tony had made himself yet another of the projectiles that were scattered across Ziva's desk and the floor surrounding it. For his childish actions, he earned himself a glare from Ziva.

McGee stuttered, unsure how to play the situation: "I wasn't really watching….OW!" He jumped from his seat as the paper ball hit him square in the nose. Looking up he saw a pair of amused wide smiles etched onto Ziva and Tony's faces. The later of whose voice rang out playfully: "Sorry Probie, wrong answer!"

Both a male and a female voice rang out from over Ziva's shoulder as two agents crossed the squad room, engrossed in chatter about a particular case, causing her eyes to swing back to their previous focus. She was thrown to find the elevator doors still firmly closed, until she listened to the voices of the agents that passed, recognising in a moment that they did not sound anything like Gibbs and the Director.

This time she did not see it coming. She lunged forward as the badly-aimed paper ball skimmed the top of her hairline. "That's not funny Tony!" She sat herself back up in her chair, picking up the paper ball that had fallen to the floor beside the desk, and holding it in her lap. "In case you hadn't noticed Tony, I'm trying to concentrate here."

"On what exactly, Ziva?"

"Have neither of you noticed?" She nodded her head back to the point upon which her eyes had been previously fixated – the elevator. "Not even you, McGee…"

The lights above the elevator backed up Ziva's point, suggesting that at this moment the elevator was residing somewhere between two floors. "Gibbs is using his favourite conference room? So what?" Tony shrugged his shoulders, failing to understand what it was that she seemed to find so important.

"Well done Tony!" she mocked him as she checked her watch. "But notice this, Gibbs' 'meetings' never last more than 5 minutes." She responded more forcefully as both Tony and McGee shrugged their shoulders again. "He and the Director have been in there nearly 20 minutes; not to mention that Jenny didn't look too happy to see him when he went in there!"

Tony's entire manner changed in an instant; both his voice and appearance became more serious. Ziva could almost swear there was a glint of fear in the back of his eye. "You're right Ziva." He stood to his feet as if an epiphany had just hit him like a truck in the road; both his team mates cast him worried glances.

Drawing his full attention away from his work for the first time that afternoon, McGee splintered his gaze between Tony and the ominous silver doors. Dubious of the senior field agent, he questioned him: "You mean you know what's going on in there?"

His head nodded sincerely, unable to utter a word. Unable to contain his amusement at the concern and intrigue that captured McGee and Ziva so intently. "Maybe," his voice was thoughtful and low, "maybe, it's a conspiracy plan!" Tony burst into an evil laugh to add to the effect as he saw his colleagues realise he was playing with them.

"Oh, very good Tony, very funny!" Tony didn't recognise the playful sarcasm in her voice until the paper ball hit him in the face. He groaned.

"Call it payback Tony, payback for mocking and distracting me." She mirrored his expression as she narrowed her eyes back at him.

"I still don't…" McGee began, but was interrupted by another voice that came from behind Ziva's ear. She jumped, restraining a yelp as she moved.

"Distracting you from what exactly, Ziva?"

The Director walked past Gibbs' team and up the first flight of stairs; Ziva noticed her body language suggested she was slightly less tense, but making eye-contact with Jenny, she realised she was being reprimanded for putting her friend in that position. Whatever 'that position' may be?

"Nothing Gibbs." Tactfully she lowered her voice. "I was wondering if the Director's okay."

Gibbs looked down the bridge of his nose at her as he crossed the room, not warranting her question with an answer. He realised quickly that Ziva's astuteness had made her the best candidate to help him confront Jenny, but now he was concerned, just what was going through her mind.

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A/N - What do you guys think?? Wanna find out what happened in the elevator?? R&R please!!


	4. Smaller Matters

A/N - Just to say, cos I completely forgot, many thanks and hugs to my beta USaddict - you rule darling. This one is a long-er chapter, and it migt be a little wait till the next update. Thought a new chapter might brighten everyone's day after the season finale...ugh...at east there will forever be fic.

Thanks to those who've been reviewing so far, your comments are much appreciated.

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Jenny sat at her desk, toying distastefully with the salad mix she'd bought for her lunch. The thought of eating made her stomach turn as a sudden wave of nausea hit her, she swallowed hard, refusing to allow herself to be ill – there was too much that needed doing.

_Just what I need!_ She placed the lid back over her lunch with the thought and pushed it away. NCIS it seemed, she mused sarcastically to herself, had turned into nothing more than a high school breeding ground for the flu. Now, it seemed, she was next. All of the past week that she'd spent avoiding those who'd gotten ill appeared not to have paid off.

Leaning back into the soft cushioned back of her chair, Jenny welcomed the warmth and comfort that enveloped her tense shoulder muscles. Her eyes ached from staring too long at the computer screen and she chided herself for not taking a break sooner as she ran her fingers in circles over her temples. Glancing up at the clock on the wall and casting her mind back to the day's schedule, she decided that she could give herself an hour before her next meeting. Whilst her body complained of needing a good night's sleep, she figured that it might make do with a thirty minute nap.

The dizziness in her head heightened as she crossed the room, slightly unstable on what, even she conceded, were ridiculously high heels. She sat down on the couch more abruptly than she had intended causing her to wince a little at the shock that flew threw her spine. Jenny always found that removing her shoes allowed a relaxing euphoria to role through her body as if the weight she carried at work could be removed in one small gesture. Propping a cushion against the arm of the sofa, she curled her legs up at one side and lay back against the soft leather, its cool touch soothing against her slightly feverish skin.

Sleep did not encompass her as soon as she closed her eyes; instead she allowed her mind to wander. _Jethro - _he was the first thing she focussed on, his name echoing inside her head. He would laugh if he could see her now; the first thing she could think of was the previous night, right here in her office, where he'd told her of the bet the younger agents had going over whether she or Gibbs would catch the flu first. She'd laughed at him when he'd assured her that he'd never had nor intended to get the flu in his life, now it seemed karma that it should be her who succumbed to it the very next day.

As she thought back to the previous night, there was the mutual feeling between them that she'd missed so much since he'd 'retired' – it was friendship. Nothing much had happened between them and they were both reluctant to push past their rekindled friendship, still her mind fluttered to the incident in the elevator.

_As she stood there, waiting for him to say something, she provoked a reaction by removing her hand from the panel on the elevator wall and stepping back into his personal space._

"_What are you doing, Jen?" his question had confused her more than when he'd pulled away from her._

_Her heart racing in confusion like a lost child meeting a thousand dead ends, she held his questioning gaze. "I'm giving you what you want – a chance to talk, and no secrets."_

_She watched, whilst sitting on the fence between the fear that he would push her away again, and the fear that whatever this was, it was about to get far more complicated and out of their depth. His eyes widened at her words; he stepped in closer than he needed, but enough to ensure him of the sincerity in her eyes._

_Jenny held herself still, the proximity between them so close that she could feel his breath brushing against her cheek and hair, enticing her to act on __his__ impulses, but she could feel the Director in her holding back. His fingers came under her chin again, this time they needn't have been there for her eyes remained locked to his, but his touch commandeered her attention._

"_Jen, I care about you, a lot and far more than I should, but I do. That's all there is to it for me, it's very simple." The words touched her more than she cared to admit, as she wished it could be that simple for her, but it __wasn't__, everything was complicated when she thought about it._

_He leaned down towards her so that their eyes were near enough level, his actions catching her completely off guard; as if skimming her toes across the waters of a lake, she tested the waters between them: "What are you doing?"_

"_Giving you something to think about." His words were short, sharp and to the point, but she did not have a second to think in as his lips brushing against hers washed clean anything else but him. It was a gentle kiss, barely brushing the surface of her emotions, but Jenny took it further, demanding to know more as she parted her lips and surrendered herself to the moment._

Jenny's eyes flickered open with a start. Despite her body's tired protests she sat up like lightening, swinging her feet into contact with the floor and demanding that they allowed her to stand. The room was now dimly lit; the reason caught in the corner of her vision – the blinds had been closed. A movement towards the door caused her to become extra alert until she recognised the familiar silhouette of her assistant. "Cynthia?"

Cynthia jumped at the voice behind her, turning her back to the door and becoming apologetic in every mannerism. "I'm sorry, Director, I didn't mean to startle you, I thought you might be more comfortable sleeping in the dark."

Pulling her shoes back on, Jenny shook her head, whishing afterwards that she hadn't. "Its' fine Cynthia, I didn't mean to sleep for that long anyway." She cast off any further apologies from her assistant with the assurance that it was okay.

The speed at which she stood up caused her head to spin even more as yet another dizzy spell and wave of nausea attempted to behold her simultaneously. Clamping her eyes closed Jenny suppressed the urge to throw up until it faded.

Cynthia regarded her with a concerned expression which Jenny wished she would not use, but before she mentioned anything, the wave of nausea returned and Jenny made her excuses, leaving the room in a rush: "I think I'll go see Ducky."

**_&Stones&_**

"Pay up McGee!"

McGee looked up from his desk to see Tony towering over him. "What?"

"I said 'pay up'!" he teased the younger agent, tilting his head to catch McGee's expression at the 'best' and most intimidating angle. Sure enough McGee's face showed yet another defeat to which he had conceded.

In an attempt to jog his memory, Ziva stepped in from behind Tony. "I'm afraid Tony wins this one, McGee; Jenny got the flu before Gibbs."

"No way!" The younger agent jumped to his feet in disbelief and denial: "What proof do you have?"

Ziva sighed hard. She felt sorry to Tim for taking Tony up on bets that he would never win – he didn't seem to learn. However, she hoped McGee did not take her up on her offer of proof; the Director had enough on her shoulders without an audience to watch her throwing up. "How about this: I just walked out of the ladies room upstairs where she was…" she searched for a more pleasant terminology, but was not sure one existed, "…throwing up. She's probably still there…" she began sarcastically.

A slap to both Tony and Ziva's heads and a voice from behind them made the pair jump in canon. "Who, Ziva?"

"Uh," she didn't really have time to debate whether to tell him, "Jenny, Gibbs."

As Ziva observed, a look of concern crossed his features before it was hidden and he reacted in his usual way. "Don't you all have some work to do?" He raised his voice to them as he grabbed the Starbuck's cup off of his desk and made his way towards the stairs and up to the Director's office.

Ziva also noted the certain urgency in his actions.

**_&Mosaics&_**

The sound of the Autopsy doors sliding open distracted Ducky from his latest patient and the small lecture he was giving to him, about brain tissue, in the otherwise silent room. "You know, Jethro, whilst I know you that are impatient, you were only down here 15 minutes ago."

Jenny Shepard rooted to the spot, unsure how to make her presence known without startling the Doctor.

"Jethro?" Ducky turned to greet his visitor, having received no reply.

"I assure you Ducky, there's no Jethro here."

The older Doctor was thrown to see and hear the Director standing in Autopsy, she rarely came down here - he had always known there was something about seeing bodies and watching autopsies that unsettled her. Under the harsh scrutinising lights her skin looked a ghostly pale shade that immediately struck a chord of concern in him. "You're not feeling unwell as well are you??"

Shrugging her shoulders she nodded her head; the sight of a body on the table behind the pathologist turned her stomach and she swallowed back the hard lump in her throat. She was thankful when Ducky followed her gaze and discomfort and covered the body.

"I forget there's a reason you're not a frequent visitor down here, Director." He chuckled slightly as Jen's cheeks flushed ever so slightly awkwardly, "It's alright my dear. I assume you're here for me to check you out."

Jen nodded again; despite the fact the body was covered over she still had the recurring urge to throw up as the image of it passed in front of her eyes. She suppressed it knowing that this image would return - haunting her like the image of every other body she'd seen.

Ducky cleaned himself up and returned to her with the equipment to take a blood test. He placed it down on the table and indicated for her to take a seat.

"Thank you for doing this Ducky."

He shook his head. "It's nothing my dear; you're not the first to come down here and I doubt you'll be the last…somehow." He grinned and Jen matched his smile with a smaller one of her own. He reached up and placed the back of his hand to her forehead, "If you don't mind me saying so you seem quite pasty, how long have you put off coming to see me then?"

Jen knew his concern was well placed as his cool hand quelled the warmth of her slightly feverish skin. "Probably too long, but I can look after myself, Ducky." She rolled up the sleeve on her shirt to just above her elbow and allowed Ducky to tie the band just below her sleeve.

The Doctor chuckled at her assured independence. "I don't doubt that for one second, Director." He cast one of his knowing smiles at her.

As the cool sharp needle pricked against her skin, it caused Jenny to flinch, the needle only just making it into her vein. "Sorry, I'm a little tired," she muttered her apology, using her spare hand to massage the back of her neck; yet her apology was far outweighed by that of Ducky.

"Please Ducky, if you're gonna stab me with needles the least you can do is call me Jenny." The shared a companionable smile as Ducky finished filling the tube and removed the needle from her arm.

"We're all done here…" he paused for a moment as he contemplated her request, "…Jenny. Why don't you go home? I'll take this up to Abby later."

Judging here balance just right Jenny jumped down from the table, "Nonsense, Ducky, I'll do it. I'll get the results quicker that way and you can make sure I go home." Rolling her sleeve back down and collecting the vial of blood, Jenny turned back to the Doctor as she heard him call her name.

"Just watch out for Abby's music – it won't do your head any good."

Jen groaned out loud at the thought – that thought in itself twinge-ing at her already pounding head.

**_&Stones&_**

A melange of noises would be the best way to describe the sound that emanated from Abby's lab and could be heard from the second the elevator doors began to part. From the heavy music that stormed its beat around the room to the lower buzzing of busy computers and pieces of equipment carrying out their work, it was as if they were made to make noise.

The atmosphere of sound became overwhelming as Jenny stepped through the door, her head pounded with the beat of the music just as much as her tired body ached, as she tried to attract the forensic scientist's attention. "ABBY!!" The shout fell on deaf ears for the first few attempts leaving the Director feeling increasingly agitated.

A loud ting broke through the musical solace that Abby was in – only to her would it be recognisable as the specific ting the mass-spectrometer made – she twirled on the spot and made her way across the room to the machine.

Abby hit into a something solid. She screamed.

As she sent herself reeling backwards she realised just who it was she'd spun into. The older woman winced as the scream left the scientist. She looked paler than Abby remembered, her fiery red hair contrasted with her skin tone and washed her out so much that she looked ill. As she observed the Director's stance said she was tired and how she'd reacted to the scream said she had a headache. Seeing the vial in the Director's hand she put her observations together and went for the music control.

The noises still screamed around Jenny's head until the music faded to a distant beat, the silence was welcomed like a wave of euphoria. The throbbing in her temples subsided slightly as she let her gaze fall upon the concerned pair of eyes that followed her actions.

"I'm sorry about the music, Director." Jenny nodded to her apology. "Director, are you okay?" Her voice was light and soft.

"We'll see Abs." Both their eyes fell to the vial Jenny held tightly onto. "Ducky says there's some sort of analysis you can do or something." She handed in over, desperately hoping that there was nothing wrong with her so that she could just go back to the pile of work mounting on her desk – the last thing she needed was time off.

Abby let out a slight giggle as she took the vial and placed it into the machine. A low whizzing sound joined the other low melodic sounds of the working room. As she turned back she met the questioning look that spoke the Director's confusion.

"Yes, Abby?" Her tone said she was curious, mildly amused and a little playful with a touch of sarcasm – to her knowledge she was the only person she knew who could pull off that combination with such an effect – she watched the younger woman stop, almost cringing with amusement. She hesitated, clearly unsure of where she stood, figuratively, with her … boss. "Abby?"

"It was just that you sounded really like Gibbs, that's all – just no caf-pow!" She delivered the line dubiously, as if skimming the top water of cheekiness.

A shiver skipped playfully down Jenny's spine at the sound of his name, the look she gave Abby intensified slightly, the only sign of her outward paranoia that someone knew what had happened between them, and consciously she forced it into a sweet smile.

"…not that there's anything wrong with talking like Gibbs…or…or not having a caf-pow…cos that's a Gibbs thing…I wouldn't expect…" Abby began to babble.

An extended hand told Abby to quieten herself and save the Director more of a headache. "It's fine, Abby. That's what you get for knowing Gibbs for too long."

She was reluctant to take the offer, but Jenny had to sit in Abby's chair after a while of waiting in silence, her heels were killing her and her ankles had protested sufficiently. The pair remained in silence as Abby moved around the room with her work waiting for the analysis to finish. There was certainly something mesmerising about how the younger woman managed all the work that was going on, Jenny found herself mesmerised. The nausea didn't seem to return and Jenny was thankful, the last thing she wanted was to fall apart in front of one of her employee's.

Another ting rang out in the room. It travelled through the air like wake up music to Abby's ears as she jumped to work and moved to check the results. The silence that had surrounded them was not uncomfortable, but it certainly had a strange air about it, and both were thankful it had been broken.

As Abby cast her eyes across the read-out she did not notice anything particularly abnormal until she saw something that opened the gates and let shock fill her body. Her cheeks flushed red in awkwardness as she struggled to look seriously at the Director. This was something no-one particularly wanted to tell their boss. Her features still screamed of the shock she had been taken by and she was aware the Director was becoming concerned. She spoke as quickly as she could so as to save the both of them the embarrassment: "Director…" somehow that didn't sound right…

"…Jenny, you're not ill, you're pregnant!"

Abby squeezed her eyes shut like a small child, only opening them slightly to gauge the older woman's reaction, completely unsure what she could expect.

Dumb-founded Jenny stared at the young Goth, unable to comprehend what she was being told – the implications alone dazzled her like oncoming headlights. _Shit_ – was the first thought she connected with.

She was carrying Gibbs' child.

She was the Director.

The Director couldn't possibly do that – unmarried.

Having her agent's child would destroy her career.

The shock would probably have held her eternally if it had not been for the figure that appeared in the doorway.

Gibbs looked from Abby's expressionless face to Jenny's – it was as if the pair were sharing a thought, he watched Jenny intently as she tried to compose herself. It was not just a thought; her look spoke in volumes of shock, fear and something he couldn't quite recognise. "Abs…Jen, everything okay??"

The Director was exactly as Ziva had described her – pale, somehow weaker looking. Abby nodded to acknowledge his question, Jenny was clearly not dealing with this well. "Yeah, I think so…Director?" She was desperate to raise an answer out of the older woman so she didn't have to deal with Gibbs on her own. Clearly this was something that needed to be kept quiet for the moment.

"I'm fine Jethro." She looked to Abby, the look in her eyes almost begging the younger woman to agree with her…"It's just a little bout of the flu." Abby nodded in agreement.

Gibbs continued to watch her questioningly.

She held his piercing gaze.

Until it broke her and she left.

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A/N - What do you think?? I know that some people may be thinking "ugh, babyfic" but I promise you I'm re-dealing with the entire S4 arc, there's plenty of angst, drama and some shocks to come. R&R please!


	5. No Way Back

A/N - I want to offer a huge thanks to all of you who reviewed, your comments have been great and deeply humbling. I know I said I was gonna try to post last week, but I'm in the middle of exams at the moment and nothing seems to go according to plan.

I hope this chapter fits in, there have been one or two things said that suggest it isn't as logical to everyone else as it is to me, so I hope you enjoy.

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Gibbs' phone rang; the shrill noise broke through the strikingly tense silence that had fallen on the empty squad room – the tenseness born of the concern he harboured. Paperwork, especially late at night, seemed the only thing that could distract his mind, but it seemed as inevitable to him that tomorrow would come that his thoughts would stray. There was something about Jenny's behaviour in the forensics lab that had stuck to him like a shadow all day. As his tried eyes recognised the caller ID he jumped into autopilot. "Jen?" There was a pause before he heard her voice, leaving him drifting into the silence once more, his mind running riot.

"_Jethro, we need to talk." _She paused again, _"can you come to my place?"_

He bowed his head at the cliché of her request; it was one that always shrouded him in dread – particularly reminiscent of his marriages – this however, seemed different. She seemed so abnormally quiet, too quiet in fact – almost as if she'd been crying.

"_Jethro?"_ Her voice rose this time, like panic rising in her throat and he latched on to the painful gut wrenching feeling that something was wrong – that he most certainly had noticed something.

"I'm coming Jen," snapping the phone shut, he forced it back into his pocket and tore his sidearm and coat from the desk. Faster than a dart he was gone from the building, his mind suppressing as many of the fearful thoughts that came to mind.

**_&Stones&_**

As the line went dead, Jenny felt the phone fall from her hands and slap against the plush leather cushions of her sofa. The first tears formed silently in her eye as she questioned herself once again, desperate to convince herself that she was making the right decision. She hugged her legs tightly into her chest. The knowledge that his child was growing inside of her was too much to bear, she feared it overwhelmingly; the thought of becoming a mother had never occurred to her, instead she had pushed it to the back of her mind as a way of overcoming her fear.

Already there was a sense that she was loosing this battle, she was loosing control of herself – her mind and her body – and she hated it. She was good at what she did, good at being in control, thrived on it even and now she struggled with not only this, but the other thoughts that submerged her mind. Jenny knew what she had to do, she'd taken the decision back in Abby's lab, from the moment she'd looked him in the eye she'd known she could never tell him, she could never tell him about a child she was sure he'd never meet.

The greatest loss she felt would be letting him go – she had to deal with this, most certainly alone and she would never go through with it if he were there – when she got used to him, he was like a drug to her and she couldn't afford to become addicted again. Jenny knew that if…when - she was sure about this – when she went through with this she would not be able to look at him without being suffocated by the guilt. She'd seen him suffer the loss of Shannon and Kelly and she would save him the pain of loosing a second child – knowing was not always better than not knowing. Her hand shook in time with her slowly streaming tears as she reached for the glass of wine on the coffee table – she knew what the alcohol could do to her the child, but after tonight…soon it would not matter. The alcohol brought calm to her senses as it flooded her body.

There was no other option, or so she concluded. It suited them both, or so she continually convinced herself; politically, in her position, it was a scandal that she was pregnant and unmarried, but pregnant by and in a relationship with one of her agents! It could never work. Their relationship as she looked at it was real, at least for her, what had happened between them recently was only proof that it had never been truly over, but being Director, she shouldn't let their past affect their positions and their future. Her decision suited her in that way and she

The doorbell rang out through the entire house.

Jen felt the chill on the air; she took another gulp of the wine and wiped the tears and strayed make-up that had lashed down her cheeks.

Jethro watched her actions so closely, deciphering anything he could read from her and she remained silent and led him into the house. There was an eerie feeling that had swamped him from the moment he had entered her house; the rooms were only lit by the light of the moon that streamed through the windows, still even in the by-light he could trace out the contours the tears had made down her cheeks, from her averted gaze she was clearly trying to avoid the subject.

There was definitely something she was holding back, in this state and when he could see her, he could swear he recognised her tell. Reaching his hand out to her, he saw her flinch, avoiding the contact by moving into the living room. The pain she was in was obvious, it screamed at him to hold her and protect her. She manoeuvred the room with her eyes half closed and he watched her continue as if he weren't there; Jenny poured herself another glass of wine and swallowed it back violently as if she needed it to find her nerve.

Of the few times he'd been here over the years, Jethro recalled most vividly one drunken night 8 years previously – it had started similar to tonight – this, he was sure was not to be an encore; despite what was occupying Jen's mind, he was sure he glimpsed a flash of the same memory, faded away quickly as if it were being drowned in the tears and wine. "Jen, how much of that have you drunk?"

She gave no answer; nor any intention of giving one as he pried the glass from between her cool fingers, her hands quivering more fiercely as he stepped into her personal space, pressing her for an answer or to say something. Her silence striking a chord of fear deep in his chest.

"Enough." She whispered.

Her breathing shook. She could not find any words. She could not find any words to say to him – to tell him…anything. Instinct took over as she fell against him, allowing strong arms to clamp around her and hold her in place. _How?_ All she could ask herself was how she could do this to him.

Jethro could feel her body's shaking lessen to a light quiver against his body; he loosened his grip, determined to discover what had done this to the woman he'd only seen break twice in her life – who had done it? He gripped her hard by the shoulders, far enough away that he could see her face but tightly enough to stop her from drifting away from him again. "Jenny? Jen, please talk to me." The overwhelming concern he held for her tore at his mind and rooted him to the floor - rooted his hands to her so that he could not let go until he understood.

She was convinced she could not do it. She had been terrified of this moment; the moment where she would ignore the issue so whole-heartedly, despite the secret she harboured, against better judgement she would pray that it would go away. Her body burned to just let him hold her but the Director in her stilled all such thoughts – she had to do this.

Taking what would probably be her last chance, Jenny lifted herself up onto her feet as she felt Gibbs' grip on her slacken, he softened to her touch as she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck. With as much care as she could muster, she pulled him to meet her lips. As if it were a fact resonating through air – taunting her – she was hyper-aware that after she did this there was no way he'd take her back, not after she had done this to him twice; she was forceful in the kiss, allowing her tongue to remember the taste of him, her hands to etch the feel of his skin onto their memory. He responded; as his hands slipped into her hair and under her shirt, his touch like a gentle sandpaper, scratching against her skin and she allowed the euphoric feeling wash over her.

His thumb stopped on her stomach, caressing the skin ever so lightly.

The action hit her, a storm of thoughts clouding her mind, except for one - one that terrified her. Jenny slammed her eyes open. She pulled forcefully away. He couldn't possibly know, could he? It wasn't possible.

Jethro's face was a picture of horror and it shattered the tremor lines in her heart. His voice, fearful, begged her forgiveness for whatever it was he had done.

"Jenny did I hurt you?"

_No. You never could_. She had to fight the tears. She shook her head vigorously, sharing his shock at the words that came out of her mouth. "I can't do this anymore, Jethro. It's over – this should never have happened between us." Her last words choked in her throat, as the tears revisited her, she turned away - refusing to look at the pain she was causing him. "I'm sorry Jethro."

Like someone who was having his heart ripped brutally out or was having the strings of his life torn in two, he felt Jenny's rejection ricochet like a bullet to the heart. Despair crept up upon him: "Jen, please, if this is…"

"No Jethro!" She screamed into the expanse of the suddenly enormous room. "Just go please." The tears lessened the volume of her voice and as her sobs became less and less smothered, she was thankful that he'd offered no resistance.

The door slammed shut.

Exhausted, and her body ransacked by sobs, Jenny crumpled to the floor. The impact of the hard surface nothing against the pain that already tore at her insides.

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A/N - Remember, it's got to get worse before it gets better, these two fight all the time.

So, liked it hated it?? You know what to do, I'd love to hear from you.


	6. A New Direction

A/N - I appear to have delivered a chapter when I promised, thanks to all those who are still following an reviewing, your comments are happily recieved. I did say I would start playing around with the S4 storyline, particuarly about La Grenouille, so here goes.

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The sun had not yet risen when Jenny entered her office, lit only by the haunting glimmer of the moon, she welcomed the half darkness. She could not sleep. A melange of emotions fired through her body, combined with a mix of alcohol, it held her in a stasis between sleep and waking.

It had not proven difficult to slip into her office unnoticed given the early hour she had chosen. Fear had over come her as she stepped onto the squad room floor, a fear that Gibbs would be trying to avoid her in exactly the same way. She was thankful he hadn't.

As a shiver spread down her spine, she wrapped her arms around her, cursing the cool night air. However she knew it could not be that cold, detainees and guards remained here over night – the heating, like the emergency lighting, never turned off in this place. The chill did not originate in the air, but from her. Wrapping her jacket tighter to herself only proved the point when it did not help – and she knew it.

Jenny rested her arms on the back of the chair, letting out a harsh breath that she did not know she'd been holding as she saw the relentless shaking continue in her hands. Abruptly hitting the computer switch she crossed the room to the drinks cabinet, if nothing else would help her, a long drink from here would. The first thing she reached for was a tumbler and with her other hand she selected the Bourbon; as her eyes caught the label she snapped them shut and shoved the bottle back – drinking that stuff would do her no good. A subdued rage overcame her as she opened here eyes, even looking at the bottle, thinking about it, glazed the horrified expression Jethro had worn over her eyes. She picked up the Scotch, taking the bottle with her and went back to sit at her desk, avoiding looking back at the cabinet.

A slight hiss escaped her as she rounded the corner of her desk and the heel of her shoe made its first snag against her skin. The shoes were a distraction for her, they were what she wore when her emotions ran riot, and they kept her concentrated, kept bringing her back to reality. The small physical pain would block out how crumbling she was truly feeling, or so she hoped. The second injury of the day came, not from her shoes, but from remembering why they were there…what she was blocking out.

She took a swig of the Scotch and poured another 'healthy' glass-full. The liquid numbed her for the time being.

Ding.

The sound emanated from her computer and she looked up, focusing her eyes, to see her inbox pop open. Jenny eyed the screen dubiously, there at the top of the page was an apparently authorless second email - second to the one she'd received a few weeks earlier – this one was again titled: 'An old friend'. If she remembered correctly the first one had been a warning of sorts, one that had her on her guard; it was some sort of riddle about an 'old acquaintance'. She had understood very little of it, however, it gave her the distraction she needed.

She opened it. Shock struck Jenny like an invisible attacker, her intake of breath so sharp that it seemed to burn her throat as she processed the image she saw. She pushed her chair violently backwards, away from the computer, refusing to believe what she was seeing until her eyes caught a glimpse of the date in the corner, and the realisation hit her, this was recent, and apparently here, in DC. With this realisation her feet slammed into the floor – she was staring at her father's killer.

Underneath was another image, of a woman in her late 20's and a message that burned itself to her eyes: _Jeanne Benoit: Start with the daughter._ The message ended in the same way as its predecessor, and it was the three words written there that made her uncomfortable: _Good morning Jenny._

Before she could even gage a further thought or imagine of trying to control it, the rage burnt in her chest, fuelled by guilt and remorse for her father's un-avenged death. The hatred for her father's murderer heightened as she kicked back two more drinks - only fuelling the fire. She threw aside the guilt she had over Gibbs and the baby in yet another glass and threw herself headlong into finding this Jeanne Benoit.

**_&Stones&_**

Gibbs woke. Then he wished he hadn't. His shoulders and neck complained of stiffness as he attempted to sit up off the cold concrete floor. The small amount of light that filtered through the tiny window near the ceiling had his eyes screaming as he suddenly realised the massive headache that limited his function. From what he could see through squinted eyes his headache was a result of a long night's drinking spree; scattered around the floor were empty beer bottles, a recently full Bourbon bottle and his coffee mug – knocked over – the spillage spreading and darkening the floor where it lay.

He flinched at the pain searing up the arm he had lain on as he used it to push himself to his feet. His reddened eyes caught sight of the scraped and purple-bruised knuckles of his right hand. Immediately the previous night came back to him. Gibbs grasped the boat's wooden beams for support as the full realisation of the night's events hit.

It was in no way tangible to him and it hurt as much as being blown up. Jen's violent rejection, shook him to the core, she'd brought back all these fantastic memories, helped him, and then ripped it all away. It still felt like a fresh wound, as if it were one she had only just inflicted. Despite his mental protests, his eyes flickered to the basement floor, beneath the boat, to where they had so passionately made love five weeks before. Tearing his gaze away, he threw himself towards the stairs, desperate to get away from the memories, and wishing he could return to the ignorant slumber from which he had woken.

**_&Mosaics&_**

A knock to the door drew Jenny's attention away from the file she was reading; she placed it down carefully, fully aware of who was visiting her. "Come in," she called as he entered: "Good morning Agent DiNozzo."

She looked up and found herself meeting his unsure expression, it was particularly evident in his eyes - she mused. "No need to look like that, Tony. I don't bite." The sarcasm in her cool tone smothered it a little too much, but if he noticed, and she was sure he did, he gave no reaction to it.

"What can I do for you ma'am? If it's about Gibbs…" He trailed off as he noticed something was off with the Director.

Jenny blinked hard, suppressing whatever emotion his name aroused, her fingers subconsciously grazing against her stomach. _One_. And there it was, the first time Gibbs' name was mentioned, and for the first time she felt guilty as hell. She didn't know why, she was keeping count, but she dragged herself back to the confused agent who stood in front of her.

"Why would it have anything to do with him?" again, her tone was too sharp as she asked herself why she would ask a question, when a simple 'No' would have sufficed. B_ecause you want to know._

"Uh…he hasn't turned up today."

The guilt she had discarded earlier returned in a surging wave; it made her more uncomfortable as it crawled underneath her skin. Even this mission she wanted to talk to Tony about could not make her forget him. _Two._

"Maybe one of your team should go and check on him, later." An image of Jethro passed out from drinking barged into her mind as she desperately tried to focus. _Three._

Picking up the folder from her desk, she fingered the edges carefully, reassessing her decision one last time before tossing it to the opposite side of the desk. "Get yourself a chair, Tony."

She watched his expressions as his eyes cast over the page, there was certainly a mix. She guessed he was somewhat proud of being chosen but there was a huge amount of apprehension and Jenny considered that she'd selected the wrong agent – was he really ready? _Gibbs would know. Four._ When a smile appeared on his face, she relaxed and knew what he'd seen – Ms. Benoit's picture.

"Why me?"

It was a poignant question and she hesitated. "Despite what you may think, I trust you. If you can run your own team you can do this and if you don't mind me saying so, your track record with women makes you the perfect candidate. You were trained by the best, Tony."

_Who would that be then? Gibbs. You steal his baby and then his agent. _Jenny swallowed the guilt; she could not let it affect her. _Five._

He nodded. However, his concern was very clear: "Does Gibbs know about this?"

Jenny had braced herself for the question, but she could not help the way her conscience was pulling at her. _Would she really be undermining Jethro?? Six_. "No, Tony, and he absolutely cannot. This must be kept between you and me."

His nod of understanding relaxed Jenny. "When do we start?"

Jenny smirked, covering the sinking feeling that churned in her stomach – her gut feelings never usually meant much like Gibbs', but there was something about it that unnerved her._ Six._ Her mental count kept going, once for every time she felt guilty about Gibbs. "Don't get too confident, Tony. I've been undercover enough times to know you have to keep your guard up."

"Don't worry, Director, I won't let you down."

After he'd left she hid the file away, she was on her own again, and the guilt swamped her. She'd just spun another lie, another secret she'd have to keep from him, he wasn't even there, confronting her, or even looking at her and she felt guilty as hell.

A few minutes later, she emptied the contents of her stomach in the ladies room. The guilt washed over her this time with the waves of nausea; she was sickened that she could send a man Jethro loved as a son into such a dangerous situation, especially with such ease. She pulled her hair out of her face as the next wave of nausea ripped in her stomach and burned up her throat.

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A/N - So what do you think?? I'd love to hear from you all.


	7. Moving Forward

A/N - Hey guys. I am so dreadfully sorry that this has taken so long to update, I promised myself that I'd update more regularly, but it seems the powers that be don't want me to - they gave me the flu in the same week as the end of my exams, my prom and I seem to have hit the gigantic brick wall that is writer's block - I guess it's inevitable. You're gonna have to bare with me a little cos some of the issues in this fic have affected me and my family and...well it's a little harder for me to write. I hope you enjoy the late arrival, it's a bit longer than the last chapter.

I'm not sure if this has been past my beta yet, so ignore any mistakes, please. Has been beta'ed so should be mistake-less.

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Gibbs looked up as he felt another presence enter the room, sure enough he could see Colonel Mann had joined his team and they appeared to be discussing the case, as far as he knew. The thought had slipped into his mind before he was aware of it, and Jethro allowed his eyes to wander the shape of her body, even under army gear he could make out her curves. She was better looking than he'd allowed himself to realise.

Cursing himself for getting distracted, Jethro laid a metaphorical smack to his head. That was the sort of thing DiNozzo did. He did not make such observations, especially before a case was finished, still he could feel her eyes follow him in much the same way. He ignored it. He was in no position to conceive having any sort of relationship.

His emotions fluttered as he thought again of Jenny – if walking out on him were an Olympic sport she would without a doubt win gold. Oh, he was damn sure of that. She knew exactly how to make it hurt, the red-hot-poker kind of hurt - as painful as the time he had forgotten, and then she would return to what she did best – her damn job – as if it had meant so little to her and she'd lost nothing. Get a grip! He chastised himself for allowing his mind to become preoccupied with less important things. Rebounding wouldn't make her jealous – there was no point in sparing her another thought. Yet it might still hurt somewhere in that base heart of hers.

He jumped. A coffee cup was thrust under his nose, soliciting a sufficient thump as it hit the surface of the desk, in the hand of the army colonel he'd started thinking about. "Thanks!" he added with a pushed smile. The piping liquid burned down his throat searing shut his basket of emotions about his boss.

"You looked like you needed it more than me." Her comment was strikingly close to the truth. He nodded.

Grasping the cup, he beckoned the team over to the plasma. "Show me what I need to know McGee."

The youngest agent picked up the clicking thing and changed the image on the screen. "His name is Abdul Shariff. He was set up in business a few years ago by the CIA, in return for good information."

Colonel Mann moved forward into his line of vision, casting a look at Gibbs before asking the question he was going to, "Where do we find him?"

He looked to Ziva, who appeared to have the answer and with a nod gave her the permission she needed to answer the Colonel. "He runs a convenience store in Roslyn, Virginia."

Ziva was still talking, he was sure, but the sealed basket was unleashed as she made her way across the landing, her gaze flickering to him, then his team and finally resting upon the Colonel – the new character. His concentration was more than lost; it was demolished, as she stopped, hesitantly in front of the MTAC door. The surge of emotion boiled again. This time into anger, swirling tensely in a soup of confusion. Something crossed her face, something he couldn't describe when Colonel Mann's, Hollis', hand swept onto his arm as she noticed his distant look. _She_ was watching him.

This was his chance, he turned to McGee: "Get me the address, on paper." Quickly, he retrieved his gun and his and the Colonel's coats from where they lay behind his desk. "Colonel Mann and I will go and have a word with our friend Shariff, in the meantime, you know what to do."

He took the address from McGee and helped the Colonel into her coat. The quick look he cast at his former lover told him that she most certainly had noticed before she turned abruptly away. "And Ziva, there are some reports for the Director on my desk and she _might_ want to know why we're talking to CIA informants."

For extra measure, Gibbs placed his hand on the Colonel's lower back to guide her towards the elevators, convinced again, that the Director had seen his purposeful action and appeared to show very little reaction to it. An anger like electricity surged through him when a pang of guilt crossed him after everything S_he_ had done.

**_&Stones&_**

Jenny sat in MTAC. She was thankful that the controller did not question her and had turned away for a moment or two when she'd requested to hold the video conference for a short while. She so fiercely wished she could blame someone, someone but herself, for the emotional weight that perched precariously on her shoulders, but she'd brought everything on herself.

Fury had raged through her when she'd watched Jethro being openly flirty, trying to make her jealous, with a woman who she hadn't even met. She hated the way he'd gotten to her – just one touch was all it had taken. It did not surprise her that in the 2 weeks since that night at her house he had not once spoken a word to her that his job hadn't required of him; even then his answers were to the point. He had not been alone in the same room as her – in the evenings, leaving with his agents so as to not meet her in an empty corridor and sending them as often as possible to carry out errands that he used to almost enjoy barging into her office to do.

She took a sip of her coffee, and noticed how her hand shook as she did so. Partly because of what she had just seen, partly because she'd laced it with liquor – it seemed to calm her just that little bit, but she also recognised the guilt over not wanting her own child. Why did she even care what the alcohol might do to the child? It wasn't as if it were something she needed to worry about. What she needed now was to concentrate on this conference. Still, the question lingered, probing her subconsciously for answers as her fingers grazed over her stomach. Maybe her feelings for Jethro were clouding her ability to make a decision over the child.

Jenny needed to talk to Abby, and soon, before she was driven crazy by this – for some reason Gibbs' favourite was extremely loyal to her and she was thankful. A bout of nausea overcame her again when she considered an abortion – as if the child itself were fighting her. Swallowing, she stood, placing her headset on, demanding of her body to be calm.

_**&Mosaics&**_

In the solace of the music filled room, she was blissfully unaware of the precise soft footfalls and light breathing of the Mossad agent as she snuck up behind her, like a silent viper to its prey. Raising her arm she reached out, the object in her hand and brought it down over the younger woman's head. A scream rang out.

Abby jumped within an inch of her life as the video tape dropped onto the keyboard she was typing on. The slightest squeal escaped her before she span, stunned, on her toes to find herself face to face with the culprit: Ziva David. Slapping her playfully on the arm, she protested. "Will you stop doing that!"

Ziva passed a smug smile across her face. "I'm sorry Abby, I can't help it. Where I grew up, I would keep doing it until you catch me out." The childish glare that crossed the Goth's face was easily recognisable as the 'wait-until-I-tell-Gibbs' look.

"Well, where I grew up, it wasn't nice to sneak up on people." Abby's arms folded tightly as she played along with the game.

"Abby," she suppressed a laugh, "There's no need to be like that." She patted Abby gently on the arm to reassure her of their friendly banter. Her voice became smug: "You should see what I do to Tony."

They both laughed.

Ziva pointed at the tape she had deposited not so elegantly on the keyboard, "Gibbs wants you to go over the footage for anything you think is odd."

Mocking a salute, Abby complied, "What Gibbs wants, Gibbs shall get!" Continuing her soldier impression, she picked up the tape and marched boldly to the VCR player. Turning on the sport with acquired proficiency she caught the look of uncertainty in the Mossad agent's face. "Ziva?" she questioned.

"How well do you know Gibbs?"

An expression of 'duh' appeared on Abs' face. "Come on, Ziva. I know more about Gibbs than anyone else here. I am the source of all Gibbs-trivia." The pride with which she proclaimed it was genuine and struck Ziva quite poignantly.

Ziva was hesitant, the overwhelming feeling that there had been something more than just a professional dispute going on between Gibbs and the Director had struck her like a persistent lightening. Regardless of her uncertainty, she approached the younger woman. "Have you noticed anything odd or different about Gibbs or the Director lately?"

Tony would tell her it was nothing that she was reading too far between the lines, but Jenny had used to talk to her, nowadays she was acting like somewhat of a recluse. She'd worked with the woman for 3 years; she'd known that Jenny had drunk too much when she felt overwhelmed then, despite the barriers and how good she was at hiding it, Ziva knew there was something wrong because she knew the Director was drinking again.

The alarm bells in Abby's head would not be silenced, she drew a long breath – Ziva noticed. Though she had not been sworn to secrecy, the Director could not afford for this to get out, for anyone to know. Jenny Shepard was pregnant. It was a fact and she had sworn to herself to keep it a quiet fact, for Jenny's sake. Swallowing back the knowledge she hid it deep, as far from Ziva's prying as she could get.

"What do you mean by 'different'??"

It was Ziva's turn to explain herself. She had been collecting her observations like a good spy should – something was amiss but she couldn't extract what. "The other day, I noticed…"

Ziva heard it first and clamped her mouth shut. The sound echoed along the corridor, the clipping sound of heels that was immediately recognisable; to her anyway, she knew that footfall well. She hushed her companion, ashamed at almost being caught gossiping by the very woman in question.

The shoes stopped. Their wearer lingered uncomfortably on the threshold, unsure if she was trespassing upon something important. It was clear to her, from the two gazes that beheld her that she was the topic of their interest.

Slipping towards the door Ziva made her exit as Jenny spoke: "I need to talk to you, Abby."

**_&Stones&_**

The look of shock that stamped itself over Abby's features, despite attempting to hide it, the horror was visible in the younger woman's eyes and it only supplemented the heavy guilt that weighed down on Jenny's conscience. It was an expression that she would never be able to forget.

"You want to what?" The overwhelming emotion that came from those four cold words lashed against her skin, deepening the wounds there. Her body burned from the inside; her heart thumped irregularly against her ribcage; she forced herself to say the words again.

"I need an abortion."

Her words stressed her need for one and the sheer urgency of her situation. Like an armed savage, her words bore back at her with the ice-sharp tip of a knife. She didn't want one, not really, not completely, her focus was too hazy for her to say anything she wanted, what mattered was that she had no choice – she needed to have one. "Please Abs, there must be someone…maybe under a false name."

There were no tears, but Abby could sense them welling up inside the woman, drowning her, consuming her even. But she would not shed a tear in front of anyone, of that Abby was certain.

She couldn't say anymore, Jenny couldn't at least, the Director in her was all certainty and determination, but Jenny was struggling, confused and scared. Part of her wondered why she was there. Why Abby? In her gut she knew it was because she had confidence in the girl but she was sure she didn't have the guts to tell anyone.

Confusion – it was the only emotion that Abby could sense, it emanated from the Director, like light from the sun. The state she was working herself into was not good for her or, her baby. There was only one thing she could think to do, she reached out to the older woman and pulled her into a bear-hug, whilst she supposed it would bring little comfort to her, she hoped so dearly that Jenny would open up to her. The words she whispered ensured her sincerity; ensured her position as a support: "I'll help you Jenny."

Abby stepped back to watch her face as she spoke her words of warning, "Are you absolutely sure?"

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A/N - Comments?? I particuarly like the kind that go 'Nooooooooooooooooo!' - just kidding. Cos I've been so bad at updating, I'm gonna see how much more of this I can write and post over the next couple of weeks cos from the 20th I'll be on holiday for 3-4 weeks so I'll see if I can post a few chapters beforehand.


	8. What Happens Next?

A/N - So I spent ages trying to think of a name for this chapter, and finally I have arrived at the kind of improvised one. Again, I'm trying to get as many chapters as posible before I go on holiday. My very lovely Beta has corrected everything - so I take blame for any left over mistakes. Enjoy - it's a bit of a touchy topic, so I'm not sure how appropriate that is. I hope you guys think it's good though. I recognise some readers may not like the insert in the middle, but I'll promise I'll keep it to a minimum.

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The room was set in an eerie silence, it was perhaps an apt atmosphere, Jenny considered. The other women in the room seemed calm, as outwardly calm as she did; she checked her appearance in her mirror, ensuring she did not express the panic that coursed through her body. To her left she observed a husband whisper reassuringly to his wife as they were called through by the nurse – she did not hear anything, only watched it as if she were caught in the loop of a silent movie. The husband led the other woman, a gentle hand against her back, offering the support that she needed. They followed the nurse through the doors on the opposite side of the room, like many had before.

Jenny felt a pang of jealousy. Her eyes scanned the room; one thing was obvious and she was hyper aware of the fact: she was the only one here alone. The others all had someone, a partner, a friend, just somebody. Somehow it made her feel smaller, more afraid, that she was doing this alone.

Shaking the feeling, she did the only thing she could do, she reminded herself of exactly who she was – she, Jenny Shepard, had achieved her dreams, more even; she should not feel lesser than any other woman she met, here or elsewhere. Yet she did. Rifling through her bag, she got out her PDA and read her messages, determined to immerse herself in her job and distract her wandering mind.

Another nurse entered the waiting room, her movement passing Jenny by. Her thoughts strayed as far from this room as they could. Catching her off guard, thoughts of Jethro managed to slip through the barricade she had constructed of everything she could find. Immediately her mind surged towards that night in his basement and her fingertips brushed against her stomach, the last time she had allowed him to touch her, and where their child lay. Jenny withdrew her hand, forcefully. That was what had brought her here – and it would not be for much longer, for sure.

She recognised her name; her gaze lifted around the room and looked to the nurse.

"Miss Shepard?"

Jenny swallowed – this was really happening, and she nodded to the nurse. She had to find her feet, the strength in her legs disappearing when she tried to convince herself she'd never wanted this…this child, or any for that matter. The Director's instinct forced her to destroy the urge of flight and deal with her fear; Jenny stood. The fear factor, the one she could never have anticipated held her back, cowering slightly as she faced her dilemma.

**_&Stones&_**

Gibbs stood on the unfamiliar doorstep and questioned himself again_. Was he truly ready to be doing this?_ His gut harboured the feeling that it could only end badly, yet instinct drew him forward. He knocked. It was a cool night; Jethro straightened his tie, hoping it wasn't too much, running his fingers down it to hold it into place. _Shit._ That was why this was his best tie – Jen had bought it for him. The thought was banished as fast as it had appeared. _Maybe this wasn't such a great idea._ It was too late to change his mind now.

The door opened. Jethro took a sharp intake of breath at the figure in front of him, the emerald dress, flowing over her curves and fitting in all the right places, her hair swept half up, half down, emphasising the soft features of her face. The transformation from her uniform was stunning – this woman knew how to dress. "You look amazing." Jethro found the words as woman in front of him did a twirl. He leaned in and kissed her cheek, "You ready?"

"Yeah," Hollis smiled back at him.

_**&Mosaics&**_

Jenny stood in the private room she'd been led to, it seemed smaller than she would've hoped, the four walls taunting and pressing in on her. Her fear was back. The fact she had no idea what was going on scared her, she needed control in that moment she felt stripped of it.

"Miss Shepard?"

Jenny saw the nurse indication for her to come and sit on the side of the bed. Following the instructions, she could feel the panic seeping back into her body.

The nurse smiled at her. "Are you okay?"

The urge to scream _NO_ was chipping away at her confidence; she remained quiet, and was sure any response would convey second-thoughts. A weak smile fell across her features.

"The Doctor will be through in a minute, but first of all, I need to know if you're absolutely sure about this?"

Jenny nodded. "Yes." A shiver went through her faster than a bullet and the nurse noticed.

The younger woman looked at Jenny for a moment, placing her hand on the older woman's arm to comfort her, and asked the question she was dreading. "I have to ask you why you are doing this?" She could sense the older woman's discomfort, but her eyes probed Jenny for an answer, coaxing her into talking.

She faltered. The Director of NCIS could kick herself as she couldn't find the words to rationalise this decision. _Perhaps she couldn't rationalise it. Maybe it was the wrong decision._ "There isn't the space for a child in my life…and there are too many complications it would bring." Jenny wasn't quite sure what she was talking about, she was almost rambling. _Was she really worried about her job, or was Jethro the complication?? The one she didn't want to deal with._ "There just isn't…In my job, in my life, a child just wouldn't fit."

The nurse backed off, and took her word for it – thankfully. She wasn't sure she could take anymore of that before she started contradicting herself with her thoughts about Jethro and what was best for her. Once this was over, there would be no more choice; she would just have to accept it. The irony that someone as politically able as herself was struck dumb by anything was ludicrous, yet it made her question herself further. Jenny forced herself to stop thinking, it was easier that way. She would concentrate on exactly what was going on around her and nothing else.

The nurse spoke again, giving Jenny enough time to think before she approached her. "This can be quite hard for some people, but I just need to do an ultrasound to check you out before we continue, is that okay?"

She nodded. Her skin quivered at the thought, an ultrasound would make things feel normal, this was far from it. Her…pregnancy had never been normal, not in her eyes – this would be too weird. And yet she had no choice in the matter. "Okay," her own voice, barely above a whisper quietened her raging mind. Removing her coat she placed it on the chair and laid back on the bed, surrendering all her emotions for this moment, because there was no room for any.

Despite everything, nothing could settle the fast beat of her heart, or the discomfort that plagued her. Everything was wrong with this – but she had to hold it together. A sinking feeling slid through her stomach as the Doctor entered the room and greeted her with a short smile.

The cool gel on her exposed stomach caught her breath; the sensation was not welcoming, it only left her with the uncertainty paved out in the pattern of shivers on her skin. For one of the few times in her life, Jenny was genuinely scared. She held her breath as the probe made contact with her skin, forcing her eyes shut and blocking out the thought of this child. The screen was faced away from her, so it wouldn't have mattered whether she looked, but she couldn't bring herself to.

The probe glided across her skin. Badum; Badum; Badum; Badum… The sound filled the cavity of the room, her eyes flying open, she jumped. The fast rhythm echoed around her head after the Doctor removed the probe. The beating stopped. That was her child - Hers and Jethro's. It was alive inside of her. She was terrified. The sound, no longer there, was still making itself heard, like she could sense it inside of her.

Standing at the sides of the bed, Jenny could see the Doctor scrambling with apologies, as if she were coming out of a trance; she began to hear them over the low rhythm resonating in her head. "Miss Shepard, are you okay? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry about that. The sound should've been turned off…I cannot apologise…"

Judgement completely clouded, a dense fog settling over all rational thought submerging all the control she had left, she only had her instincts – there was only one thing she could focus on – that tiny heartbeat. She shook her head.

_It's a child. Your child. Jethro's child._

_She couldn't do this. She wouldn't be able to go through with it. She would regret it._

Shaking set in, ever so slightly as she asked for the one thing she'd refused herself. "Can I see…the baby?"

She was stupid, she was sure. Surely having a child would destroy her career, everything she'd worked for. The one thing she knew was that the baby's heartbeat made hers race. The other thing she was acutely aware of was what this would do to her life.

She had to make a decision, either way she'd carry that decision with her forever.

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A/N - Sorry it was a bit short, but like?? Or not?? So, I guess the question is 'did she do it?' Press that little button, cos I love to hear from you, speculation and all.


	9. In The Dark

A/N - Hey all, I wasn't gonna post till tuesday, but I'm bored so you all get a present: you get to find out what happens next!! For those of you who don't like Hollis, I'm sorry she has a fair chunk of this chapter, so look away. If you wanna know what Jen did, the answer is 'sort of' towards the end.

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Jenny ran.

She always ran.

Somehow she felt lighter when she ran, as if she could cast off her problems to another shore, if only just for those few moments of her and the road. The rhythmic beat of her soles impacting with the tarmac, resonated in her ears. It was her way of finding peace, her comforting solitude.

Tonight, however, under the white lit moon and the orange hue of the street lamps that blurred past her, she could not, nor would not find that peace, or the freeing feeling that she craved – needed, even. For tonight, her fear and her problem itself followed her, keeping sharp to every beat of her feet. The beat quickened as she sped up her pace, hoping desperately to leave her spinning thoughts behind. Yet she found no comfort in the beat echoing from her soles, only a rising dread and discomfort born of the child's heartbeat that haunted her now.

A cold sharp sensation pricked against her bare arms, as the rain she had yet to notice became heavier, forcefully declaring its presence. Hidden amongst the rain drops a small tear escaped her.

_**&Stones&**_

Jethro watched the rain as it hit the glass, each drop shattering, on impact, into smaller shards that scattered across the windshield. What could he say; he had no idea what would be appropriate as he continued the silence held between himself and the other person in the car.

"Jethro." She stopped. He watched Hollis' face, searching those dark eyes for the things she wanted to know. "You've been awfully quiet all night."

She wasn't wrong. He had been quiet, quietly thinking, this time he had promised himself, thinking would be the first thing he did before even talking to a woman. He muttered an agreement. "I'm just thinking…about things."

She didn't press him, almost as if she instinctively knew not to dig deeper, that this were not the time, and he found himself thankful for her intuition. "Jethro, you promised me you'd tell me that story about one of your ex-wives"

"Which one? There were a few." His brow raised in question – it was clear this woman was more cheeky than he gave her credit for.

Hollis let out a small giggle. "Oh yes, the legacy of Gibbs' women; something tells me that I'd be better off if I got out of this car now, but I'm intrigued…I think you mentioned the one with the baseball bat."

"That would be Diane. Trust me; you wouldn't want to meet her in a dark alley. The Baseball bat incident was one of our more painful encounters."

"This one sounds good."

"Let's just say I had a bruise and a headache large enough to teach me to never go through a woman's things again." Hollis smirked at him. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Seriously, what?"

She looked at him, an unstoppable widening smile crossing her face.

"What?"

"Just trying to imagine an angry woman attempting to beat you over the head with a Baseball bat – the image doesn't quite fit." Another suppressed giggle escaped her.

"You're not gonna let me live that down, are you?"

"No."

"Okay, I told you about Diane, you turn."

"What you gonna do if I don't."

"Honestly, I'd have to think about it." Jethro's eyes scanned over her, watching her body language. For some reason she remained that little bit of an enigma to him; he couldn't quite judge her next move, leaving him upon a rocky ledge, unsure whether he would fall onto more rocks or land firmly footed.

Hollis leant in towards the centre of the car, her actions subtle, but her intentions nevertheless forward. "Well, maybe you don't have to think about it, I mean, not for too long anyway." Her eyes boring into his, Jethro asked himself: _Did he really want to move forward??_

**_&Mosaics&_**

The rain was falling heavier now, its strikes against her skin almost painful, but still she forced herself to run further. She was not ready to turn back yet and it was an all to poignant question as to whether she would ever be ready. Jenny was well aware she could not keep her pace for much longer; her muscle began to tire and cramp began to reach further through her body.

The rhythm of her feet lessened, soon to be replaced by the beat of rain on tarmac. The continuous beat as hypnotic as that of her child's heartbeat; it followed her still, a sound she could not shake from her ears. There was nowhere she could run, nowhere she could escape it. Out here, in the…she did not know where she was exactly…but out here in the vast, cool, wet and very dark night – lit only by ominous sparsely scattered streetlamps – she could not escape the fear of her predicament and the life she still carried inside of her, the sound of that life's heartbeat the only thing she could continue to focus on.

Wiping her sore eyes she realised that she's been crying, but she had no idea when the rain and tears had merged into one. She let out a small cry, heard by no-one in the dark void that encased her. She stopped running. There was nowhere left to run – she repeated the mantra to herself. She brushed her hair back from her face as she sunk to her knees. A half-scream escaped her before her form quivered with quieter sobs.

Jenny was lost. For the first time since her mother had died she was truly lost. How she wished her mother were still here with her, to guide her through all this. This couldn't be happening to her, to her of all people. How could something so tiny be grating off pieces of her strength, one chunk at a time. She let out a pained cry as a surge of pain flowed freely through her hand as it made contact with the ground. Tears lashed down her face and slid unnoticed into the pouring rain. She was completely alone now, there was no-one left who could truly help her through this. As she held her bruised hand against her stomach, she wasn't sure she could tell the difference between the two pains anymore.

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A/N - Do I sense some happy Jibblet supporters?? I have a question, which I'd love to hear your opinion on. Obviously Jibblet is staying for the moment, but some readers did express an interest in seeing what would happen if Jenny had gone through with it, it's certainly something that's intriguing me - a lot. I was wondering **would anyone be interested in finding out how the story goes on if she'd had the abortion??** I can't do it now, but if there was some interest, at the end of this story, I could write a seperate story which picks up from last chapter and deals with the aftermath of her actions. Just an idea, but one I'd be prepared to explore.

So, opinions - on the chapter or the idea?? Reviews saying 'I hate Hollis' are perfectly welcome - particuarly from you: everyone lies.

The more reviews I get, and the more people I know are reading, the more likely it is that you get another chapter before I go away.


	10. Observations and Conclusions

A/N - I did suggest an update before I went away and it seems you guys responded to my last chapter very well - it was particuarly good to hear from those of you I haven't heard from before. I also want to thank all of those readers who reviewed in response to my question, I will certainly take your opinions into account and I'm particuarly thankful for those of you who took the time to talk me through those thoughts. So, this chapter is set in the first half of Twisted Sister, and I've taken my creative lisence to switch TS and Once a Hero around - cos I have plans for that ep.

Enjoy!

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"Ziva"

"Ziva." She ignored the voice and continued typing.

"Zeeeeeeeeeeee-vahhhhh."

The book hit the desk, barely millimetres from where Tony's head lay against it and he jumped up. "That's not fair, you have dark evil Ninja skills, you can't use them against me."

"Well shut up then. Gibbs won't be happy if you haven't done anything by the time he gets back."

She continued to ignore him again, if he wasn't going to listen to her, then he deserved to be on the end of Gibbs' wrath when he returned from MTAC. There was something about the team leader's visits to MTAC that left him irate when he returned and she was still trying to decipher what. He would be in an even worse mood when he found out that McGee wasn't there. That posed a question. He had not answered his phone when she'd called, but Gibbs would know what was going on.

In the background of her thought, Tony was muttering something about a movie or such, but she was not in the mood to indulge him today, she'd been no less than thrown out of the Director's office because Jenny clearly hadn't slept last night and was being particularly touchy today – even Ziva, although she tried not to, took offence at her friend's action. Or maybe, Gibbs' bad mood was infectious. Suddenly the noise from the other agent stopped and caught her attention – apparently he'd fallen gone back to trying to sleep – whatever, it didn't bother her, it wasn't her who was gonna get head-slapped by Gibbs.

Scanning the room around her, Ziva's gaze fell on Gibbs' desk, there on the desk was a cup of coffee, one she had not noticed before, it had to have arrived whilst she'd been to see Abby. Abby – the goth woman's name triggered the cogs in her head, there was something Abby wasn't being completely honest about, Ziva was sure of that, and it had to do with Gibbs' bad moods, MTAC and the same reason he no-longer went to see the Director unless he had to. Something had happened, perhaps an argument, or, as she thought more likely, it most probably had to do with Gibbs' recent disappearance to Mexico. Still she thought back to the Starbucks cup.

"Tony." There was no reaction from the still form leant over his own desk. "Tony." She called a little louder. Anyone else would've said the agent was asleep, but he did not look relaxed enough – a telltale white wire peeked out under his jacket as he shifted in his seat and then disappeared again.

Sighing she stood up, and crossed the room, as silently as possible and as far to the edge of his field of vision as possible. She kept her breathing silent and reached one hand towards each of his ears. _1. 2. 3._ On 3, she swiftly pulled the earphones out and bent over so her lips came close to his ear, "How many more times am I gonna do that before you catch on?"

"I'm just pretending." That, apparently, was his defence. She chuckled to herself, never had she worked with a partner who wasn't as observant or aware as her, even Jenny had caught on to her tricks very quickly.

"Tony, who put the coffee cup on Gibbs' desk?"

The look he gave her spelt out 'WHAT?' on his face. It was Gibbs' desk no-one messed with his coffee, not unless they wanted to die. "Gibbs maybe." He shot her yet another incredulous look.

"Gibbs is in MTAC, has been for the past hour."

"What's the big deal with Gibbs anyway?? Yesterday you were going on about his mood…why do you keep asking questions as if there's something going on."

"There _is_ something going on Tony, you just haven't noticed it yet – doesn't mean it's not there."

"Oh right, you think Zeeeevahhh; Colonel Mann put the coffee there, so I would say Gibbs is doing better than alright."

The Colonel was just another piece to the puzzle, and it had her wondering. She patted DiNozzo on the head like an obedient dog and handed him back his earphones. Even with her back turned to him she could see the confusion contours mapped on his face – he really did have no idea what was going on around him. As far as she was concerned something big was going down and they weren't going to like the fallin…no, the fallout.

**_&Stones&_**

"Where's McGee."

Ziva had seen both Gibbs' mood and question coming and pre-empted his gaze towards the empty desk. She shrugged, Tony meanwhile remained still, head down and listening to his ipod, he attracted the boss' attention.

Smack. "Wake up DiNozzo. And find out where McGee is." There was almost an irritated growl to his voice.

"Yes Boss." All of a sudden, Tony found himself staring at Ziva – the woman must be able to read minds.

The phone rang, breaking the ignorant silence.

"On our way." The opportunity to get a case seemed to listen the older man's mood, or perhaps, as Ziva mused it was an opportunity to get out of the building.

As soon as he'd put the phone down, he looked up, his team of two had already got their guns and headed towards the elevator. They brought a small smile to his face – he was proud of them.

Tony whispered towards the assassin, "How'd you know about Gibbs?"

She shot him a look when they were stopped in their tracks by a short red-head. "Something is going on."

Gibbs looked up from the note he'd scrawled. The younger agents parted and his eyes were cautious as they settled on why. The look she was giving him made her look like she had something to announce, as if she were teasing him, except that in the three weeks since she'd summoned him to her house, she'd he'd never once laid eyes on her out of choice. Instead, he'd sent one of his team to talk to her, his lack of barging into her office probably had the entire agency talking. Part of him was glad to see her, he tried to crush it, but the covered-up dark circles under her eyes had him worried.

Hate. It gave him a sour taste in his mouth just to think about it. No, hate was a far too strong feeling for him to have towards Jenny, he couldn't hate her, but at the moment, he didn't like her very much either. A magnetic pull was still held there, for him anyway, fuelled by recent vivid memories.

She held a piece of paper in her hand. "McGee's off sick." She began to read from the email: "_Woke up this morning with laryngitis, hope to be back tomorrow._"

That, apparently, he saw from her body language, was not all she had to say, it looked from her amused expression that she was going to try and make a joke at him. "Yes, Director?"

"If he's emailed me, I'm sure he's emailed you too. If you check." She gestured toward the computer.

Something he knew not to take personally was comments on him and computers, but he couldn't decide why. _Was she trying to buy herself a truce?_

He clicked a few buttons on screen, and sure enough the email came up. "Yes, I see what you mean, apparently I have 361 NEW messages too." He played along, he wouldn't let her make a fool out of him until he was sure what was going on – not talking at all was completely unchartered territory for them.

Grabbing his jacket from the chair, he crossed the room, breathing in her scent as he breezed past her. Her perfume seemed overpowering, leaving a lingering thought in his mind as to what the perfume and make-up were masking.

**_&Mosaics&_**

Why would she send Tony home without at least telling him first? The question rolled off of his mind, he was almost angry at her for interfering, but he already knew why. She was rightly angry for the way he'd played her earlier, he'd manipulated her in order to get what he wanted, that was her method not his. This had to be a way for her to get back at him, or maybe he'd really gotten to her. Whatever was going on with her, it was affecting her behaviour, making her less predictable and more importantly, it was dangerous – for whom exactly, he did not want to consider. Still, in his stubbornness, he argued that Ziva was upstairs doing the work of 3 agents, and he was not having that. She probably hadn't noticed anyway, was probably up in her cosy office playing politics with other people's problems.

He stopped as the elevator doors closed with a quiet click; two voices escaped Abby's lab, the second caught his attention and set it alight. The voice was upset, not to the extent of tears, but certainly full of discomfort and it screamed fear. Yet, it was _hers_, and she was far from cosy in her office

"Jenny, do you want to talk about it?"

A silence followed, flowing from the lab like waves and spreading through the seemingly empty corridor. Abby's words were wrapped in a concern he knew she reserved for only the closest friends or deepest fears. She was comforting the older woman. As he waited, he could almost touch her hesitation as if it were a force to be reckoned with; apprehension crawled under his skin. _What was going on? What was she scared about?_ Perhaps what was happening to her was bigger than what he had imagined. Despite everything that had passed he wished she had come to him, she always had – _before you left_ – but now they were further apart than ever. They were all each other had for family, but he knew Jen better than anyone else, nothing should've stopped her from coming to him when she needed him. A burning sensation – guilt - spread through his gut; there was something seriously wrong about this, could Abby have found something in her blood, maybe? His suspicions were confirmed in her voice.

"I couldn't do it Abs. I went to the clinic, but…I couldn't stay…I couldn't go through with it." She struggled to find the words: "I don't want to give this up, Abby, I love being Director – I know I'll lose it all when people find out, but I've given up enough of my life for NCIS – not this."

She choked out a sob, only one this time, but it hurt Gibbs like a broken limb. Jenny had always been one to never openly cry, or show her emotions, whatever it was, it was destroying her; talk of clinics and doctors scared him, he was angry with her, but he still cared a lot and the guilt of not being there tore at him like a savage.

"What are you gonna do?"

"I don't know Abby, I don't know."

In his mind's eye he could see Abs sweeping across the room to comfort the older woman, encasing her in a bear-hug and holding her till she calmed. He knew when she'd composed herself; Jenny had a habit of clearing her throat and he recognised the mouse-quiet sound. She also changed the subject very quickly, he noted the sudden influx of confidence to her voice as she drew up the walls she usually held around herself and he knew he would no longer be intruding.

"Abby, thank you, really, but that's enough of me. Why don't you tell me a little about your weekend, it's always good fun." By now she was probably trying to escape the Goth's death grip, but Gibbs knew she would be held onto just that little longer that Abs was certain she'd made things better.

Midway through Abby's recount was probably a safe place to enter the conversation, particularly before he started thinking to much. He caught Jen's eyes first, but she pulled away from the hold of his vision, feeling scrutinised under his gaze. "Hey, I've been looking all over the building for you"

Watching her improvise was like watching a magician, how she went from crying to her usual self in less than 30 seconds was formidable, but to him, it was no longer entirely convincing.

"Since we're low on agents, I thought I'd give Abby a hand."

"The only reason we're low on agents is because you sent DiNozzo home." He mentally slapped himself, he'd been intending to confront her, but it no longer seemed appropriate after what he'd just heard – still he done it anyway and now she was on the defensive.

"Well there's no sense in us all getting sick is there?" Her eyes were already darkening as they did when she was getting defensive, ready to put up a fight to him.

Abby, working away on the cell phone, cut in before either of them had the chance to speak. Diffusing the moment was important imperative for her considering Jenny's all-over-the-place emotions. The last thing she wanted was a full out fight between Jen and Gibbs, despite whatever was going on there, Jenny was gonna need him, more than she knew just yet; Gibbs was Abs' rock and she wanted him there to help their friend as well.

' "_Next time you send one of my team home, you clear it with me first, Director!" '_ Her impression of Gibbs got their attention.

' "_Oh, I didn't know I needed your permission to manage my own personnel, Agent Gibbs." _

"_Your personnel?"_

"_Last time I checked, it said director on my door - not yours." '_

She looked up at them both and caught the Director's eyes drifting downward, amused, a small smile crossing her face and Abby was glad. "The kids don't like it when mommy and daddy fight."

The comment came like a punch to the stomach. Jenny felt herself falter, she looked anywhere but where he stood. _What was she doing? Apparently all mommy and daddy did anymore was fight. Gibbs was going to hate her and her child forever when he found out. _She forced the thought to pass in the hidden shiver that shook through her body and met Abs' eyes.

"You got the call log off the phone we found on Seaman Petty?" Gibbs rounded the table, but Abby's attention lay firmly on the older woman in the room. That had been a stupid comment on her part; she connected with Jenny's gaze, desperately sending her apologies and hoping to bring some comfort to her.

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So, thoughts? I'm around tomorrow so any comments before sunday, I can reply to, any others I guess I'll see you around in 3 weeks, and I'll be looking forward to what you have to say.

BTW I just dyed my hair deep red. And that is completely irrelevant.


	11. Meetings and Confrontations

A/N - Hey. I'm sorry it's been a while, things were a little hectic after I came back from holiday - which was awesome fun by the way - so it took me a while to get back to writing. So you get a longer chapter this time, I think it's longer anyway, and I'm hoping to get you guys another one by the end of the week so that the lynch mob doesn't come to get me. Thanks to gonnabemarine for your words of encouragement - this one's for you. Kudos to my awesome beta who manages to get this back to me within a day - thank you!! Just so this is clear, this, like the previous chapter, is also set in the episode Twisted Sister.

Enjoy.

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Jenny paced the length of her office – it seemed to help the twinge in her back. She was sure her body threw discomfort at her just to spite her; she found herself unable to focus, her eyes drifted across the page in front of her, but her thoughts were far away – they regularly did that nowadays. She was convinced a Doctor would tell her it was hormones, but she was not ready to face being pregnant yet; hormones were a whole world away and she was not ready to go there. The morning sickness was abating, thankfully, she didn't think she'd be able to explain why she was so sick at the moment – she hoped it was gone anyway, it was the one thing she despised more than anything.

Bourbon. The smell caught in the air, comforting her senses, the smell alone settling her. She poured herself a glass every now and then, just for the smell, but other times, when she was angry, she couldn't help herself. She despised her own lack of control for that.

Damn! The papers she was reading fluttered to the ground, no where near as dramatically as she had hoped for and were scattered all around the room. Jenny hated this all so much. Hated everything that was happening to her, if she could put it all into deep freeze she'd keep the entire world there to stop what was happening to her. Everything hurt too much. It hurt every time she saw him, particularly since Colonel Mann had turned up. She'd seen him twice in one day and now he was in her head, distracting her. Bourbon couldn't just be a drink she liked; it had to be her 'connection' to him. It's_ your own fault, Jenny. You did all of this When did you become so pathetic?_ Yet she desperately searched the wilderness around her for someone else to blame.

What hurt more was that she couldn't talk to him. He hated her for the way she'd treated him and even now things had changed she could not tell him. The rational voice in her head said it would only get worse if she didn't tell him soon – but she wouldn't. Everything was stupid; this was stupid, and _she_ was stupid. It was hardly as if she could hide a pregnancy much longer. _Why on earth had she gone to his basement that night? And letting him kiss her??_ That was probably the most ridiculous thing she'd ever done. A stealthy shiver slipped down her spine as she remembered his recent touch, the Bourbon-coffee flavour that was so uniquely him.

Jenny gripped the back of the Director's chair, the cool leather under her fingertips reminding her of exactly where she was – it would never be the 'right time' for her, but this was entirely not the place. Oh God, Jethro, she couldn't deny anymore – she wanted him. Starting a fantasy about him in her office was hardly the sign of a woman in control, she went for the nearest bottle – it seemed to do the job, the scent so thankfully distracting.

Tap.

Tap. Then another.

Jenny span to face the door, her mental breakdown would have to wait till later.

"Come in." She called out to the intruder of her madness, unsure if she should be thankful to them or not; there was no reason why it should be, but she hoped to almighty God that it was not _him_.

DiNozzo appeared through the small gap in the door. "I need some advice."

Her eyes twitched as she tried to read the expression on his face. Oh yeah, she was the best person to be doling out advice right now, even Tony seemed to sense it in his hesitance to enter the emotionally charged room. She leant back against her desk and indicated for him to come in. "And you came to me?" She could swear she almost giggled at the irony before her Director head took charge – _could it be to do with the mission? _

Tony blinked, hesitating again, before finding his words and catching her built in intrigue. "Well, it was either you or Gibbs, and his track record with women isn't so…" He caught her eyes and they both knew where that comment was going. That was the understatement of the century. _Oh yeah, and you're the best person Jenny! You can't even sort out your own life, let alone anyone else's._ If Tony knew her situation and what she'd done, maybe even Gibbs may have seemed the better choice.

She swallowed. Hard.

**_&Stones&_**

"You can't go in there, Agent Gibbs!" Cynthia was stood tall, to her full height, "the Director's in a _private_ meeting."

Gibbs eyed up the secretary, wondering how far the woman would really go to stop him. There was something in her voice today, something warning him not to try her. He paused to consider her tone, casting her an icy look before making straight for the door, his fingers grazing the handle before it lurched open in front of him. DiNozzo collided with Gibbs, or that, at least, was how the older man saw it. "Sorry Boss."

Twack.

The slap rang through the adjacent offices. An irritated Gibbs pointed at the younger man, his voice icy cold. "Don't apologise."

"Sorr…Okay Boss."

He went to move past Gibbs and get out of the situation, but he was called up. "DiNozzo, what were you doing in the Director's office?" There was no response but silence, his agitation was immediately recognised by the older agent. Gibbs' suspicions rose, like a cat lurching towards its prey.

"I'll get back to work now, Boss."

Tony left the office faster than he had before, finally he twigged as to what Ziva meant – there was something up with the Boss.

A look of concern began to spread across Cynthia's face as she saw the new face enter the outer office. That was her cue to leave: "I'll go and get some coffee."

Gibbs and Jenny acknowledged her disappearance but did not remove their eyes from one-another, almost as if it were a challenge to see who would look away first.

"What's going on, Jen?"

She tuned on her heel and headed into her office, the last person she wanted to see right now was Gibbs – she might say something she'd regret – _not that you haven't done enough of that already! _

He followed her through the open door and slammed it shut behind him, the sound most surely ricocheting through the entire building. The room hung silent as both waited for the other to begin the onslaught of words.

"There's no need to get so jealous – he came to me for advice he couldn't get from you." Jenny chastised herself, she was so defensive, and she made everything a fight with him. How on earth was she meant to have a serious conversation about…she ripped her thoughts away…from that, he was so good at reading her he'd probably see right through her. She flicked her eyes to the desk – it was safe ground.

Behind her back she could feel his gaze sweep the room, it'd been a while since he'd dared step foot in here and now he didn't know what to say, other than picking an argument with her, he couldn't find any words. The drinks bottles were low on alcohol. That was something that stood out, he knew immediately what the perfume overload was covering: she was drinking on the job. Something didn't sit right with him, he'd never seen her so careless before – she always covered up her drinking. Yet there was a glass tumbler on the desk and two bottles sitting beside her computer. He was struck with concern, "What's going on with you, Jen?"

Almost shaking on her feet, she wasn't sure if she was upset because he cared – even in his still angry tone, there were the tendrils of a deep concern – or because he could read her, especially well in the state she was in.

"Absolutely nothing you need to concern yourself with, Jethro." Hands clasped the edge of the desk as if it were the edge of a cliff face as she turned to face him; the look she sent him would've ordered even Death to leave her alone. He remained, unmoved. She threw her best stare at him but he wouldn't leave her in peace – they were so beyond words now. He sat down. "Get out, Jethro, I've got things to do."

Stagnant silence hung.

"Fine." She flinched slightly at how hard her hand hit the desk – it was still sore from when she'd hit it before. White pain spread up her arm, but her expression was solid, there was no way she'd let him pity her. "If you're gonna stay, make yourself useful." She pointed to the pile of paper that she'd strewn over the floor in anger. "Pick it all up and stay quiet."

She feigned turning her attention to the next file, she could not concentrate with him in the room, when she knew he was watching her every move and would be until she broke, her nerves buzzed with electricity as high as the electrical storm of uncertainty that held the room in suspense. As hard as she tried to concentrate, thoughts of her secret, a secret that was in the room with them were overwhelming. Thoughts of the baby kept flashing into her mind as if they were subconsciously embedded in the text she was reading.

The eerie quiet caught her off guard as she realised Gibbs was no longer picking up her papers, or in her line of vision. Hot breath hit her neck, Jethro's scent engulfing her from behind. Her instincts were killing her, all she wanted was to touch him, kiss him, pull him to her and tell him everything, but something held her back. Remaining passive, silent as she'd ever been, was all the resistance she could muster.

Her own body was betraying her in its actions and Jethro was pulling all the right strings – he knew that only too well. This had to be his last ditch attempt to get her attention. He blew softly against the skin of her neck, on her pulse spot, enticing the involuntary shiver that he knew so well. "Jenny, I know something is wrong." His words danced against her skin. "Let me in. Let me help you."

She remained still. It was as if the silence she held was filling the whole room and stilling time – even Jethro's breath against her skin seemed to still; she did not dare look at him. The slam of the papers hitting the desk beside her was all he had to say before he left the room as abruptly as he had come in. She remained silenced, unable to form words as her stomach tingled with her stirrings for him.

_**&Mosaics&**_

Tim looked across the table at the Director, the woman was livid, and she had every right to be, but the sheer tone of her voice had him wondering where the nearest escape route was. The force with which she turned each page in front of her was brutal; his best assessment of her body language told him she was very close to picking up the folder and throwing it at him. Today she seemed almost unhinged and it was scary. The only thing he knew for certain was that Sarah was innocent, yet the Director did not seem to have the time of day for the possibility.

The Director's office was filled with violent electricity, one that swirled above the table, waiting for its chance to pounce and bring a lightening bolt crashing to the ground – scarring and scorching everything in its path. Gibbs was stuck in the middle, head flicking like a tennis spectator from the Director to McGee, back and forth, back and forth. It was almost a predator-prey relationship with the Director not far off lashing out with her claws and tearing the guilt from McGee's side.

"...Other than being your sister is there any evidentiary reason why she shouldn't be charged?"

"But she is my sister Director; Sarah may have a temper, but she lashes out with her mouth or with a pen - not a knife."

"And I hope you have more to offer than brotherly love, Agent McGee!" Her voice was rising, becoming more and more angry with every breath she took. She could surely have been heard through even the walls of MTAC – her entire mood only fuelling the foul atmosphere building in the room.

McGee looked to Gibbs for support, but there was none there; he was watching the Director, escaping her icy glares that flew instead towards McGee like stalagmites of frozen steel.

"She was drugged; she showed up at my door groggy, barely able to walk. She couldn't remember anything from last night except leaving the food core…"

"The lab reports for drugs and alcohol were negative."

"By the time those tests were taken whatever was in her system had metabolised." His normally quiet exterior was beginning to crack amongst the circles of fire the Director was weaving around him; he could barely get a word in between her shouting and accusing, he'd seen the Director pissed off before, but he'd never seen her this pissed off.

"And if that is so, whose fault is that?"

Silence was brought crashing to the ground, like a lightening strike grounding all its electricity at once.

"Mine. I should've brought Sarah in."

"But you didn't bring her in. Agent DiNozzo and Officer David did! So your actions, or should I say inactions did nothing to help your sister, but it did impugn the integrity of this agency." The words were half spat out, Jenny found herself so completely irate that she couldn't help but throw it home as hard as she could. She had been prepared to give up everything for this agency when someone like McGee could disregard it so easily.

"Forgive me Director, for not putting the integrity of NCIS before my sister. It won't happen again!" He slammed his gun and badge down on the table and shot Jenny a look of fury before turning and flying out of the door. She held his gaze, fires burning hot and cold ignited behind her eyes, the rage fuelling in her so strong that she was prepared to deck someone, and McGee would do.

The door slammed shut behind McGee. Her fist slammed into the table. Gibbs practically jumped round to face her on hearing the noise. "What the hell was that Jen?"

"It's my bloody agency Jethro; I'll run it how I want." The chair flew from behind her, from the force with which she stood up, skidding across the floor and stopping on impact with the coffee table. The satisfying clatter of metal on glass was heard as glass flew and shattered around the room.

Jethro stepped into her personal space, holding her where she was, eye to eye, nose to nose. He grabbed her by the arm as she tried to pull away. "You, Jenny, are out of control."

"Get off to me." She shoved hard against his chest trying futilely to make him relinquish his grip; then came her onslaught of punches against his chest, pushing him as far away as she could with her free hand. He had no right to do this to her. No right to corner her and attack her.

"Jenny stop!" She persisted until he grabbed her arm, pinning it behind her back and forcing her to face him. It hurt, hot twinges scraping through her shoulder, but he had clearly needed a new way to stop her.

"Jen, I know something is going on with you, and I know it's something big and I'm sorry, but that is no excuse for someone in your position to speak to McGee like that. You flying far off the handle so you need to get a grip on yourself. Calm down, go home, and don't come back until you've worked this through – got it?" He pulled her closer watching until he saw the acknowledgement in her eyes.

He let go of the arm he had pinned behind her. This time when she shoved him, he let go, backing off with his hands up, perhaps a signal mocking her irrationality. She watched as he grabbed McGee's weapon and badge and headed after the younger man. "I'm fine Jethro, I don't need you…"

He didn't meet her eyes again, but slammed the door before she could finish. Jethro was far from in the mood to deal with her, considering there were others more willing to accept his help.

Jenny waited until she was certain he was long gone before letting out a small scream and hitting the table again. No-one, absolutely no-one had the right to call her out at the moment, no-one could understand the shit she was dealing with, sure McGee wasn't happy about his sister, but if the evidence said she did it, then she did it. She was far from in the mood to deal with semantics. Jethro's words were firing around her head, the sheer fact that it'd been him who'd confronted her made it all the more bitter pill to swallow, he made her blood boil; he'd had her so on edge that she was shaking, her thoughts so erratic that she'd only just noticed. He had her thinking, though. She'd shouted at McGee for 'impugning the integrity of NCIS', what was going to happen when her situation came out , when everyone knew that the single female Director of NCIS was pregnant by one of her senior field agents – it was going to mark the agency.

This had to stay secret for as long as possible, there was no way around it. What she was going to do was beyond her, in her state of mind at the moment, she knew she was capable of anything. There was no way she could go back to the abortion, she could never be settled about it in her right mind; this was her child, and she had every right to have it. No-one would dare try and stop her.

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A/N - Hope you enjoyed, as usual, I love to hear from you all, so comments, questions, just to say hi, you all know where that purple button is!! Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me so far, now I've made it to my milestone 25,000 words.


	12. Spinning Out Of Control

A/N - I know I'm a day later than I promised, I think, but here you all go. I'm behind so it's my fault that Beta has yet to see this. I know everyone's putting up these 'schools back' messages, but I have to join in I'm afraid, I go back, next week I think so updates will aim to be once a week, but you may have to settle for every 10 days or two weeks. I'll let you know how it goes.

Enjoy.

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Eyes scanned the room around her as Jenny felt Ziva scrutinising the movement of every individual within a 5 metre radius. She couldn't help but let her own wander as she half-listened to the Senator who seemed to have an innate ability to speed her mind beyond boredom. Her mother had always taught her to appear interested – it was a skill she's acquired at a rather painful length as a young child, but it had suited her mother's socialite status well, and hell was she glad for it now. She knew how to get the idea of the conversation and just when to interject a comment as a courtesy. At that moment her focus was reeled in across the room as she caught a glimpse of Agent DiNozzo sneaking some food off of the intricately decorated buffet. He looked far too smug with himself. She was glad he was there to give them all a laugh from time to time; still, she would discuss his behaviour with him later.

Finally it seemed, as she sought out the hour hands of the watch clasped with cool metal to her wrist; the Defence Secretary's arrival seemed imminent. Thankfully and at long last she excused herself from the conversation and made her way through the room to find the Israeli member of her Detail.

Applause rose through the room. Jenny span on her feet to the sound's origin in just enough time to see the 'guest of honour' come through the solid oak doors, surrounded by more members of the secret service than she thought necessary at an event like this, she would hate to be watched by that many people. Two and a half agents was bad enough, only Ziva and McGee would be taking their job seriously and she had to wonder if she really did need them to watch her as closely as they did. The female agent was never anywhere to be seen, but Jenny knew she couldn't breathe without it being noticed.

She was torn from her thoughts in the time it could've taken for a lightening bolt to grown and was alerted by the warning shouts of the very same invisible agent. Jenny could not hear the words being shouted, only the fear in that voice. In what seemed unnaturally instinctive her hand slipped down over her stomach – a protection – the only action she remembered before the body and momentum of her former partner knocked her to the hard, cool surface of the floor. She bit down on her lip as her back impacted with the hardwood, her thoughts only just catching up with her from where they were lagging behind; Ziva's body hovered over hers – protecting her in the same way that her hands sheltered her stomach from Ziva's weight.

Statue-still, she remained, watching as other agents scattered the room to protect their superiors, weapons were drawn and eyes looked up, while those around her looked down. Jenny looked right in the space under her agent's arm. She wished she hadn't. There, broken on the floor, lay the body of a man, beaten and distorted from a 9-floor fall. The angle of his neck was impossible, and his face turned towards her held a single terrifying eye – open towards her, and less than 4 feet away.

**_&Stones&_**

Regaining her composure had taken longer than normal. Where she would normally revert to her training and ignore her disgust at the sight, her stomach now turned uncomfortably. That face burned just a little deeper into her memory. The twinging pains in her lower back had not dissipated either; she saw Gibbs coming towards her and gave it no further thought, removing her thumbs from where they had been massaging that tender area – point blank she refused to give him a reason to feel sorry for her.

"Director" he addressed her curtly, but she could've sworn that he was watching her very differently; there was almost a glimmer of concern as if he were checking her for injuries. She ignored it.

"Agent Gibbs." He appeared to have delegated crime scene jobs to the team, and if the look on his face was anything to go by, he'd argued out this case with the other detectives and won. "What do we know about him?"

Gibbs just looked blankly at her, other than the man's status as a marine what else was he supposed to know: "I was hoping you might be able to tell me." His hand gestured up to the balcony from where the marine was said to have jumped. It seemed an awful long way up but then again, a frightfully long way down too.

"I'm sorry Agent Gibbs, but I didn't really see all that much – it was Ziva that noticed him, so I'd ask her if I were you. If you'll excuse me, I have press management issues to deal with. She sped from that conversation as fast as seemed reasonable – the way he watched her made her feel uncomfortable, he was still watching her now, and she could feel it. He was getting closer to knowing what was 'wrong' with her and it unnerved her more by the day, all she could focus on when she looked at him was the life inside of her and keeping the secret made her heart race every time she was under his gaze. A shiver of relief drifted through her as she felt she'd put enough physical distance between them – even physical distance could not last long though.

His voice called after her, stopping her in her tracks, cemented to the ground. He followed her and grew nearer as each on the thumps of her heart became more erratic, hammering out her fears for all to hear.

"That's not like you, Jen."

Her eyes closed, she'd been right to say he was watching her closely. She opened them and turned to face him, now there were still metres between them, but that did not seem enough. "Excuse me, Jethro?" It was barely above a whisper, quiet enough to keep it out of the airwaves of the room but still a little too quiet to convey her false confidence.

"You didn't notice – you always notice things. You claim you don't even need a Detail, but you're distracted Jen." It was a statement of fact they both knew to be true. Jenny attempted to cast it off with a look, but her soul seemed to be pouring out through her eyes and he seemed to have the cipher key to all of it.

"If I was, Agent Gibbs, it'd be none of your business." This time she left a little faster, determined that, this time, he should not catch up with her. Her hand tentatively caressed her aching back – she would certainly have bruising later. She could almost see Gibbs' brow furrowing in concern behind her.

**_&Mosaics&_**

Abby was on her way up to see the Director, her knowledge of the older woman's condition and the day's events sent her to check that everything was okay. Receiving no response as she knocked would've sent most people away, particularly when Cynthia wasn't there, but Abby's concern had her peering into the dark room, lit only by a small table lamp in one corner, the light from in tracing out patterns on the floor.

Thanks to one of the vampiric qualities that some may associate with her, she adjusted immediately to the dark; she sought Jenny amidst the darkness, seeing her only by how her ivory skin caught the light juxtaposed with the jet counterpart of the couch. "Jenny?"

The older woman remained silent.

"Jenny? What's going on?"

The Director's cool voice scraped at the air, "You're very persistent Abby – I assume that something you learn from Gibbs."

The Goth turned the light up just slightly, enough so that she could see her way around her office and avoid the furniture, but not too much that she would blind the other woman who seemed to be almost hiding in the dark. She crossed the room.

As Abby approached her, Jenny removed her legs from the couch and pulled the younger woman to sit beside her. She did not return her hand, only clasped it tightly as if to reiterate her message, the reason for Abs' visit was held unspoken between them, but it didn't need to be said. "I'm fine Abs. Thank you for coming up here, but it's a few bumps and bruises – that's all. I'm a little tired – nothing you need to worry about – it takes time to get used to this." She waved her hand around aimlessly, but Abby knew what she was motioning to, 'her pregnancy' was not something Jenny was prepared to talk about just yet.

"Did Ducky check you and the baby out?" The grip on her hand tightened at the mention of 'the baby' and she knew the answer without needing to hear it.

"Abs, Ducky doesn't need to know, I'm fine."

Abby shot her a look to tell her that 'she' wasn't all that was at question here.

"Okay, Abs, I get it, but the b…we're fine. I know it"

The room fell momentarily silent as both occupants prepared to argue their case, but the younger of the two could sense the apprehensive chill on the other's skin, feel it even, where their hands were held.

Abby plucked up her Gibbs-grown courage. Something was very wrong here, and she had to do something about it. "Jenny, I know we're not that close, but be honest with me, you're not dealing with this, you're keeping this huge secret and it's not good for you. You can't exactly hide it from us, so let us help you with this: me, Ziva, Gibbs…"

Jenny flinched. Again. Abby noticed.

"…all of us, we're like a family, and Ducky is your Doctor, he needs to know, so he can look after you both. You've got to tell him and let him check you both out – just in case."

Jenny pulled her hand back. "I don't know that I can tell them Abs, if I can't deal with becoming a mom myself…if you…" She jumped up to her feet, a pain soaring through her back and causing her to wince. She began to pace; she was uncertain what to do, whether she was ready to face _him _to say it out loud. "Okay Abs, if you think Ducky should check **me** out, then he can, and if there's anything serious, I'll tell him about…but not unless it's serious. Deal?"

She continued to pace, tracing out the shadow lines that formed in the lowlight. She needed something tangible to make any real sense, something to catch all of her irrational thoughts and hold them back so she could concentrate on what she really wanted.

Abby looked on in concern – hoping her boss would work this out before it pushed her over the edge. She was scared, and Abby understood that, she would be too, especially if she was single, as she assumed Jenny was, but there was something else going on here. She approached the phone on the Director's desk and Jenny looked up at her.

"Deal?"

"Yes, okay, Deal!"

**_&Stones&_**

Ducky's head appeared around the door in double time. He could sense the heavy emotion of the room seep into him from the moment he opened the door. "Director, Abigail, what can I do for you?"

He watched as Abby looked straight at the Director, telling her that she had to do this or else – it was a sort of 'if you won't, I will' look and Jenny, it appeared, was not taking too kindly to any of this.

"Thank you for coming up here Ducky." There was a remnant of coolness in her voice and he could tell it wasn't aimed at him. Well, he was glad that someone was looking out for the Director when she wasn't for herself.

"That's no problem, what can I do for you?"

Abby and Jenny met eyes across the room, checking with the other before deciding what to do next. The older woman kept her eyes on the scientist as she answered his question, little could Ducky guess exactly what they were silently exchanging, but he would never have guessed what secret that look was hiding.

Jenny spoke up: "I landed on my back earlier and it's been giving me some trouble, so I if you could just check me over and prove to Abby here that I'm fine, we'd both be grateful." Abs nodded in agreement.

"Of course, Jennifer." He turned up the light to it's full setting so that he could see and approached her, "If you pull your shirt up I'll take a look."

Jenny complied. "I assume Abigail is insisting upon this?"

The shared murmur shared by the two women told him that he'd guessed right. Abby watched Jenny's face as Ducky lightly examined the bruises that were beginning to appear on her back, she'd managed to keep still, but from the wincing pain that kept crossing her eyes and kept her blinking hard, the older woman had been in more discomfort than she'd been prepared to admit. Abby's concern was one that Jenny had refused to even consider, her main concern was that her boss could lose the baby, she wanted to ask Ducky, just to be sure, but she remembered her promise to her friend and kept quiet.

"I'm hardly surprised Jennifer, you seem to have hit the ground fairly hard – this must've hurt."

Jenny merely nodded, whether concurring that it had hurt or merely accepting the Doctor's comments, neither could obviously tell, though both assumed it was the former option. She drew a sharp intake of breath as he pressed a little harder and shook her head at his whispered apology – it wasn't necessary.

"Well, it's not too bad, you should survive, but may I suggest you avoid lying on your back or carrying to many heavy objects for a while." His tone was one of a caring friend, she was finding she had more of those than she realised. He backed off from her so that she could straighten herself up, "That should heal up in a few weeks, but just be careful for a week or so."

"Thank you Ducky." He smiled.

Abby cut in as if she was clarifying his diagnosis again: "So, nothing serious then?"

He shook his head. "I shouldn't think so." Somehow the intense atmosphere didn't seem any more alleviated than it had been when he'd entered the office. The Director gave Abby a chastising look that said 'I told you so' but Ducky couldn't help but notice how Abby wasn't convinced and her gaze kept returning to the older woman's stomach – she was acting as if she knew something he didn't. Whatever was going on here, it was certainly more than he was being told. He joined her gaze, there could've been something he wasn't really sure, he didn't do regular check ups for the Director – there could be some swelling in her stomach; he knew her fitness regime so she wouldn't be putting on weight.

"One more thing Jennifer." She looked up to meet his eyes, confused and wondering if somehow Abby told him something. He placed one hand on her back to steady her and to mask what he was doing, lightly he pressed against her stomach – that couldn't be swelling, it was rock hard. "Jennifer have you had any pain in your stomach at all?" He felt every muscle in her body tense as he asked the question, removing his hand he watched her blanche with his words.

"It's nothing Ducky. Thank you for your help."

It was clear from her tone that he was being dismissed but Ducky didn't want to leave it at that, he looked to Abby to gauge her thoughts on the Director's reaction. He remained rooted to the spot as he heard Abby mutter "Jenny," as discreetly as he could.

"Jennifer, Abigail, what's this all about?"

Jenny wanted nothing more than to run from this situation, it seemed the revelation of her secret was imminent and she did not want to be there when it came out, Ducky would work out that Gibbs was the father without a second thought and he couldn't keep that secret from his friend. Instantaneously the weight on her chest doubled. She had to get out of here. "Thank you, Doctor. If you'll please excuse me, I have to go." She acted on her first instinct, fleeing like the child she wished she could be in that moment, Jenny made it as far as the door before her 'friends' could react – she could never forgive Abby if she did this to her.

"Jenny." The voice belonged to the younger woman, the one who shared her secret and somewhat the burden of it. The warning tone set alarm bells ringing, Abby was seriously going to tell, her hand fell still on the door handle, but she did not turn to meet the watching gaze of the room behind her. Her emotions began to well up a fire of tears in her eyes. This was not happening; none of this was happening. She still did not turn.

"I'm sorry Jenny, but I have to, and you know it." There was sympathy in the younger woman's voice, but none of it could reach her through the growing terror that one person knowing would lead to everyone.

Her plea went out, still facing the door; it ricocheted back into the room. "Please Abby."

"I'm sorry about this doing this to you both, but Ducky, as her Doctor, you should know that Jenny is pregnant."

Her frustrations hit the door in the form of her right fist, the cool metal scraping against her skin and her knuckles joining the various other bruises on her body. Finally turning, she looked to Abby, a glare concocted of every emotion she could feel in that moment thrown at the younger woman; the girl regretful of her actions and fearing the consequences but only because she was concerned what would happen now. The young woman's face told a story of apology, but it was not one Jenny wanted to hear the end of, not right now. She looked across to Ducky, unable to meet his eyes; contrastingly, he was taken aback and offered some words of congratulations, but she was not to hear them.

Emotions at boiling point she flung her eyes back to the younger woman, the fireworks breaking free in her bitter words: "You had no right! No right whatsoever Abby!"

She slammed the door with such a force that the sound resonated down the corridor after her.

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Ooops. Looks like that one's out!! I love your reviews, they make me laugh so come on give us some more!!


	13. Bump in the Night

A/N - here's the next chapter, it's a weeny bit of a filler chapter, but there's a little insight into Jenny's head here, so I hope you enjoy. By the way, I couldn't help but name the chapter that. Forgive any mistakes, my beta hasn't seen this yet.

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Her eyes remained firmly shut. Despite her efforts not to look she couldn't help but feel lost in what was happening to her and she couldn't shake the hollow feeling that enclosed her when she'd seen it. She didn't dare open her eyes. Seeing it meant it was real, it was something she could no longer escape or deny and Jenny hated the overwhelming sense of helplessness that she knew would stare her back in the mirror. Ducky had noticed and it had her on edge. He'd seen it, and she's refused to admit it was there, but a shadowy glance at the mirror had told her it was there.

The definitive curve to her stomach; she could feel it as she tentatively ran her hands over formerly washboard flat skin. She felt like she was sinking from the moment she hit the curve of it, here in the darkness she'd imprisoned her eyes to, she knew what was finally happening to her body. She had to look, but she couldn't – her own self will netting strongly around her and gluing her emerald eyes from sight. It was finally there, the thing she'd been so scared of appearing, and the one thing that would give her away to everyone - to the trained eye already had – finally the visual confirmation of what had been scaring her inside out – a bump…her bump.

Heart racing in fear of how real this suddenly was, she tried to look, but she couldn't. The reality, the first signs of her child were too much for her to grapple with, in her mind's eye she could see her stomach bulging, an immediate give-away to her colleagues…she hadn't even told her bosses yet. She was panicking. A thousand thoughts were tossed around her mind like ships against a ferocious, relentless storm – she'd known this would happen, but nothing could prepare her for how self-conscious she felt. She was scared and she had no idea what to do.

Jenny opened her eyes. A flux of light filled her brain as she focussed on it. The Bump. It was there, she could see it now, and it most certainly was real. She felt elated, relieved, thankful that the dread in her was momentarily banished. This was real, she was going to fulfil her last dream, she was going to be a mother. The moment of clarity began to fade as it always did; like a disease penetrating through her body, reality set in. Nothing was that easy, nothing was that clear-cut; black and white was a belief of childhood, she was stuck in the middle – navigating the grey and dodging every grey speck or boulder that was thrown her way. _What was she really going to do? Could this really all be happening?_

She slid to the floor, that specific mix of elation and fear making her muscles weak. Jenny shed a tear, a happy tear, a tear for the child that was slowly nearing this world; what followed were more and then more until a steady flow shaped the contour of her cheeks. This time they were tears for that same child whose presence was going to cause conflict and pain, joy and how much it would cost her, she did not yet know, but it was a child that would change her life forever.

_**&Stones&**_

The black stone's surface sparkled just slightly in the early morning light. The sun was low in the sky and the morning hours were still shy, but this was the best time to visit. It was quiet, even the low hum of traffic seemed to have been banished from this place, as if the presence of such a strong and prominent personality kept out all the disruptions, or at least that was what she liked to think. The respect she had for the woman was tantamount to fame, at least it had been through the eyes of a young girl, and it was still here, hidden in the awe at which she ran her hand over the smooth shaped stone – it stood out above all others here. Perfectly manicured blue and white pansies stood at her feet, not a single flower head drooping as though they were captured in the vacuum of time, never once wearying – those were her instructions, she wanted this place to be kept, locked in a moment stolen from long ago. This was her place and her hour of the day – she shared it with no-one and with it she found herself sharing some of her darkest moments. Her fingers traced delicately over the engraved name, the stone felt cool but as usual it leant its calming soothing touch to her.

_Dianna Louise Sheppard_

"Hello Momma."

The graveyard was hidden away, a harmonious place known by only some of the most elite names; most importantly to Jenny it was small – a place to gather her thoughts and rid herself of past regrets. She was sure her mother would approve of it, her father had chosen it years ago, and to this day she was thankful for its silence and beauty.

Hands drifted down over her belly as she knelt down before the headstone, she tackled to find the courage to say the words, but saying it here was nothing compared to out there in the real world – she left that place well behind when she was here. "I have something to tell you, Momma, something I know you'd be happy about." She took in the sight once more before whispering the words: "I'm pregnant, Momma."

There was absolute silence in her little drifting world, yet she could almost imagine what her mother's reaction would've been. Her mother's face would've lit up like a light bulb for the first time, if she closed her eyes, she could see the beaming smile of a proud mother; the light breeze blew against her skin in congratulatory kisses and enveloped her in a never-ending embrace. Jenny kept her eyes tightly closed, keeping alive this moment for as long as she needed. "I know you're happy for me, Momma, I only wish you were here with me – I want to be so happy so badly, but for me, it's not that simple and I need your advice."

Behind her eyelids flashed the last image of her mother, the last piece of advice she'd been given; she couldn't help but revisit it.

_Young eyes looked up from the floor, taking in the glamour of the sight before them. Jenny's mother turned to see her in the doorway, hovering but slowly inching forward into the bedroom which held the flurry of her getting ready for the evening. Jenny breathed in the scent that welcomed her to the room, her mother's perfume lingered, often when her parents were away she would just come and lie on the bedroom floor and sure enough the scent would be there, promising her they'd be back soon._

_Her mother's grace and beauty had her amazed; beautiful red-brown curls tumbled down her back and her pale white skin always looked stunning with the bold colours of her dresses and make-up, tonight was no different. Her mother had been described by so many people they'd met as a true Goddess Dianna, but it was never a reference she's understood, at least not then._

"_Jenny, come over here." Her mother beckoned her across the room, pulling her into her arms and pressing a kiss to her head – she savoured these moments, this time, this closeness with her mother who was only ever around in short bursts. Her mother had seen her watching, it was clear from the way her eyes flicked between the make-up and the eyes of her ten year old daughter begging to be a part of this grand evening out. "Jenny, why don't you sit up here and we'll make your eyes really pretty?" The child nodded franticly in agreement. _

_She watched her mother as she concentrated, choosing her colours and brushes as precisely as the professional socialite she was. Jenny was ecstatic to have her mother home again, her parents had tried not to mention it in front of her but she knew nonetheless that it had happened again. Her mother had been in hospital again, and had lost the baby again, she could see it in her mother's eyes – all the pain, all over again, she'd lost count of how many times this had happened, she knew her mother had lost hope of giving her a brother or sister, but she remained as outwardly strong as ever. She, simply, chose not to look into her mother's eyes, it was easier not to._

"_Momma, can I ask you something?"_

_Her mother looked to her, the slightest of frowns crossing her brow, "Of course you can, Jenny." _

"_Why do you keep trying to have a baby when it never works."_

_Dianna's eyes widened. Jenny shrunk back, standing behind the seat, terrified that she'd upset her mother. On both of their faces was worn a puzzle of emotions, her mother remained still and silent, watching her retreating child, terrified of alienating that child, her only child._

"_Jenny, come here." One more she pulled the young girl into her arms, squeezing her tighter to her than she had before; she nuzzled her nose into Jenny's hair and pressed a kiss to her nose. Her mother came down to the same height as her – emerald green eyes and red hair mirroring youthful emerald eyes and redder hair. "Sometimes, honey, you have to do what you have to do to make yourself happy – you'll understand that one day. One day you'll probably even tell me that." She smirked at her own joke, but Jenny didn't follow; she focussed on her mother's words, a look of puzzlement on her face - she could decipher them later, she decided, and ask her father what Momma had meant._

_She was pulled into her mother's arms once more, her mother's scent around her and she felt comfortable. "I love you, Jenny."_

"_And I love you too, JenJen." She turned away from her mother and to the other voice at the door. Her father was in his dress blues, he would always be her hero when he wore his medals; she flung herself, with all the grace of a ten-year-old girl, into her father's arms._

Jenny looked up at her surroundings, the smallest of tears just forming in the sides of her eyes, that memory was one she always carried with her, it was the last night she's seen her mother alive; she'd been killed the following morning in a fatal car crash.

She broke away from those sorts of thoughts; they were not good for her right now. Drifting her eyes once more across the grave, she admired the sophisticatedly manicured flowers, they were truly beautiful and her mother lived on here as if her zest of life gave everything an extra sparkle.

Standing up, she brushed off the odd blades of grass from her slightly damp trousers. She'd come here seeking advice and now she felt she had it; relating to what her mother had meant was no-longer a problem, she'd wanted the best for her daughter and she'd wanted her to be happy. Jenny felt her mother's glowing touch on her shoulder; she was not entirely alone in this, the only question left to pose was what did she have to do to make herself happy. Her hand brushed over her stomach once more – this child was something she wanted, she was sure of it.

"Thank you, Momma."

**_&Mosaics&_**

She'd hoped that a sigh of relief would wash over her as she stepped out of her car and into the parking lot and NCIS, but it was no-where to be found, things had seemed so clear to her when she'd been with her mother but things were far more grey here than they were black and white. She was the Director of NCIS, for crying out loud, she could handle this.

Walking towards the elevators she heard her Blackberry beep somewhere in the depths of her bag, signalling to her that she had a new email. Jenny sighed, somebody wanted her attention - her day had already begun, she looked to her watch, and it was only 6.30. Finding the source of the noise proved more difficult than she had thought, it was in her bag somewhere, she'd put it there, but there was so much else to fight her way through. Frustrated at not being able to find it, she stomped her heel a little harder than necessary, pulled the bag from her shoulder and rested it against the trunk of a car. She was going to find that bloody thing, the last thing she wanted was to find out that in the past two hours something had happened and she was about to walk into a hell hole completely unprepared.

"Director, you okay?" A voice called out from behind her – it had to be one of her agents. _Shit._ Someone had seen her have her momentary strop. She turned her head to look and saw Agent Lee walking towards her, walking towards her side which meant she could see her side on profile: Jenny panicked and pulled her coat closer around her – _would her colleagues be able to notice her little bump?_

"Yes I'm fine, just trying to find something."

"Okay Director, should I hold the elevator for you?"

Jenny looked up, she didn't want to be that close to anyone, and surely someone would be bound to notice. "No, it's okay. You go on up, Agent Lee."

The girl disappeared from her sight and along came her sigh of relief; she couldn't act that panicky around the Agents, she needed to calm down, her clothes were not skin tight, it would be a while yet before anyone noticed and that would be the time she needed to tell the SecNav before the rumours began. _Of course there'll be rumours, Jenny, don't be so naïve! _She would just have to ignore them. She could cross that bridge when she got to it. Turning back to her bag she felt her hand grip around an object of the right shape and size, sure enough, it was her Blackberry, she let go of the irritation she'd been holding in one long breath and unlocked the blank screen.

Jenny's heart stopped still, or she would've sworn it did. The email was authorless. _How on Earth could she have become so caught up in herself that she'd forgotten about this? _These anonymous emails had her on edge, the author seemed to know her, and it couldn't be a coincidence that this person was feeding her information on the one man she'd been spending her life hoping to catch. She took a tense breath and opened the full email.

_G5 from Ibiza landing Potomac Airfield at 14.40, 11/19/06_

_LG + 3_

_Enjoy._

That was today's date. She scanned the email once again, if he was coming into the country this could be her chance, though she was not prepared for this – it could be a good opportunity to gather intelligence. If he was on American soil then he was up to something – she could even catch him red-handed. The thrill that went through her body at the thought of that was exhilarating, if she could get him, she could finally have avenged her father's death.

Jenny's eyes scanned the parking lot to check she wasn't being watched, she wasn't, as far as she could tell anyway. However, back to the issue at hand, Grenouille was landing this afternoon and she had to do something about it.

_**&Stones&**_

He was on his way in, or that was at least what he'd told her when she'd called him, they had less than 8 hours before this plane landed and she…they needed to have a game plan ready and burnt to memory. Jenny looked to her computer screen, she'd managed to get her hands on the recon some of the 'sister' agencies had on Grenouille, most of it was pictures, all circumstantial of course, but even the sight of the man had her ire towards him burning and growing flame by flame. She was going to bring the whole force of this agency down on him and she was going to make it stick, and when she was done, she would make sure he knew exactly who she was and what he'd done to her.

Jenny launched to her feet, she needed a way to ground all of this harmful energy, to help her concentrate because she would not be letting the man walk away from this one. Her first instinct was to force her way onto that plane and do to Grenouille the same thing he'd done to her father – a bullet straight between the eyes was the most poignant way to get her message across. _NO, Jenny. You have to be more intelligent, more resourceful than that._ At the end of the day, she had an entire armed agency at her disposal, and the law was on **her** side – the man was an arms dealer, nobody would see anything wrong with her pursuing the worst one of them all. Whatever happened she was going to need DiNozzo, he could get on the ground, he could get near to this man, _was it too far-fetched for him to get into Grenouille's inner circle? Probably – but if they had the right intelligence._ Her thoughts were a muddle of ramblings and out there ideas; she began to pace the room to the unwavering beat of all these notes in her mind.

The door opened, she could not see who it was, but she knew immediately who it was. "Sit down DiNozzo."

He entered the room whilst her back was still turned, and took one of the seats at the conference table. "Director?"

She turned to face him, sitting back against her desk and sending him a serious look that told him this connected to their mission. "I've received intelligence that Grenouille and his people will be landing at Potomac Airfield this afternoon; we need to start collecting intelligence, so I'm going to want you on the ground crew. You'll be putting tracker tags on the bags and getting photos of everyone that gets off of that plane."

"Okay. What about Gibbs?"

"Gibbs is not your concern; you are an agent following my orders and no-one else's. I'll have the driver pick you up at the usual place at 12.30 and you'll be filled in on any further details then; there'll be a helicopter crew watching over you and I'll ensure you'll have everything you need in the car." Jenny stood to her full height again, and rounded the desk, looking for a folder she'd set aside. Tony followed her actions and accepted the folder she offered. "That's your alibi. I want you to have read it and learnt it before Gibbs comes in, this is need-to-know and he doesn't. I want that folder back in my hands when you're finished so I can dispose of it. Okay? You follow everything?

He nodded. "Yes, Director."

"Then good luck, Agent DiNozzo – we cannot afford to have this one go wrong."

That was it; with the tone of her voice alone she had clearly just dismissed him. The entire meeting hadn't lasted more than 3 minutes, but that, he assumed, was how it was when everything was this secretive. The Director had seemed more authoritative than usual, but he was honestly too excited about doing more undercover work that he really didn't notice.

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A/N - Like, not like?? I'd love to hear from you, so search for that little purple button.


	14. When You Need A Friend

A/N - I'm very sorry guys that I didn't get this update to you last week, school and everything's been a little hectic and writer's block decided to pay me a visit. I promise you will get an extra long update next week, I have it all planned out and it looks like a big chapter, so if I get enough encouragement in my reviews it should be up in a week's time. I'm afraid my beta has some internet problems and is unable to beta for me at the moment, but she's promised to catch up when she gets the chance, so for the moment please ignore any horrible mistakes. In case you couldn't guess, the chapter is linked to the episode Smoked.

Enjoy.

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He was on his way in, or that was at least what he'd told her when she'd called him, they had less than 8 hours before this plane landed and she…they needed to have a game plan ready and burnt to memory

The lab was awfully quiet compared to usual and in Ziva's opinion was strikingly odd; she was currently describing just how much she wanted to decapitate Tony, and possibly McGee too, for the way he was playing around with the latter's book. However she seemed to be feeling that she was no longer speaking to the Goth, it was more like she was talking at her. Something was on the other woman's mind. "…so, it doesn't really matter anyway cos I've already put Tony down that same chimney that we found our serial killer in. I hope you don't mind, I'm thinking of putting McGee there too, he did after all start this whole thing in that book of his."

"Yeah," Abby was sat, turned slightly away from her, her chin resting in her hands and her eyes focussed on the same bleak spot of paint they had been for the past few minutes…"sounds like a good idea."

"Abby. You seem distracted, is there something you want to talk about? Maybe something I can help you with?" Ziva was becoming concerned; it was very unlike the other woman's very bubbly and talkative-to-the-point-of-irritation character to be so, well, she couldn't really describe it, except it was abnormal, and it was quiet, scarily so.

"I'm not…well…" It immediately clicked for the Goth that Ziva could be just the person to ask; she was upset, although she would not let it show, she'd hoped that Jenny…no, the Director wasn't her friend, or more to the point, the Director no longer saw her as a friend…regardless she'd hoped the older woman would've understood why she'd told Ducky, instead Abby knew she was being avoided. "You and the Director, you two are friends aren't you."

"I guess you could say we are."

"And she trusts you?"

"Trust was necessary for us to be partners and look out for each other." Ziva was bemused - she did not see quite where this conversation was going or what the enigmatic reference to Jenny had been about. She latched onto the other woman's every word in an attempt to decipher the clues as to what this was all about. _Perhaps Abby knew about whatever had been going on in her friend's private life?_

"What happens if you betray that trust?"

The Israeli drew a breath in shock, she knew better than most people that you would never cross Jenny Sheppard if you could avoid it. She herself had never broken a promise to her friend, never given the woman any reason to doubt her, but she'd known people who had…

Abby was thrown by the lack of response Ziva had given her, perhaps there was no coming back from this, what if Jenny never spoke to her again, she'd found a good friend in her, almost a mother figure – she always went to Jenny or Gibbs when she wanted some guidance, what if she'd really lost a friend when all she'd been trying to do was help. She was concerned now.

"Ziva?"

"I've seen her hold grudges before, but you're a good friend Abby, give her some time and she'll…what do you say…cool down."

Abby remained silent as she processed the other woman's words. "She screamed at me Ziva, she told me that 'I had no right to do what I did', but I thought I was helping her. I promised that I'd keep her secret, but I had to tell Ducky, I had no choice. And now she's been avoiding me all day…" Her words drifted into a rambling that left Ziva unsure what to do; eyes to the floor, the Goth looked as if she wanted to cry a river of guilt. _There must be something really serious going on with her Jenny.. How could it possibly have skipped her notice?_ Of course she'd noticed something…but clearly not enough.

"Abby, I promise you, Jenny will be okay once she's had some time to think, and she won't hate you – I know it."

Abby met Ziva's eyes. "You sure?" The latter nodded.

_**&Stones&**_

A loud noise bounced through the office as the door was thrown wide open, swung back on its hinges and the door handle impacted with the wall. Apparently Agent Gibbs was back to storming into her office, the notion had her in shock – he had after all been avoiding her these past few weeks. Jenny cursed silently; she really didn't need him here if he was just causing trouble, she had far more important issues to deal with than him right now. Gently she ran her fingers across the underside of the desk, and chastised herself for being so superstitious, at least she could be thankful for the desk between them, because she would need to do far more than just touch wood to keep her stomach hidden.

Like an unwelcome tornado he arrived, as announced as the door made him, and tore into her organised plan for the afternoon; in his stead arrived the reason for his anger – today it was apparently nothing she'd done. In his grasp was an ominous sheet of paper and from the smug look on the second man's face – that paper had everything to do with everything.

"Agent Fornell…Gibbs, what can I do for you today?"

Said piece of paper was thrust into her hands, and items of her office furniture designed to be sat at, not on, were misused enormously. Her eyes grazed like a mere touch over the letter, keeping her conscious mind in the room with its other two occupants. Her attention found itself on one of them in particular; Jethro had seated himself to her side and she was hyper aware of how he studied her. His eyes moved down towards her stomach and she pulled herself flush with the table.

"So, Agent Fornell, how are the FBI treating you?" It was clearly a rhetorical question from the way that she continued. "Obviously they haven't found anything to do – are the cases not good enough for you, or do you just prefer to steal ours?" There was a sense of malice in her voice that was surreptitiously hidden, strangely predator-like and both men picked up on it.

Fornell shook his head innocently; he knew how to play with these two. "Oh Director, I don't know what I can say, it must just be all the superior company you keep over here." He shot a look at Gibbs and then bullet-fast moved his eyes back to the Director. It caught his attention that she had made nothing of his comment on Gibbs.

"I'm sure we know all about that." She looked back to the letter, "These are very clear-cut orders Fornell. 'NCIS is to turn over the Bright case to the FBI by end of business today.' Who'd you have to sleep with to get these?" Jenny cast a poignant look at him, as much as she was enjoying this, she didn't need the inconvenience or, for the matter of fact, a nosy Gibbs in her office.

"Director, please."

His 'innocent' response had her smirking. "Now, NCIS makes more progress in a few days than the FBI did in years, now I can see how that could be just a little embarrassing."

He shrugged his shoulders in response and looked across to the other occupant of the room who, it appeared, was observing everything with just a little too much diligence to not notice. "No hard feelings Jethro?" It seemed that all of Gibbs' previous irritation had diffused – now he was looking smug. Fornell was confused, Gibbs had something up his sleeve, and if so, what had this whole charade been about?

The older man shook his head. "Not at all Tobias. I've got something to show you before you go though." As he was beckoned by Gibbs' finger he had a feeling he'd been set up.

Tobias seemed to get the message, but as Jethro looked towards the Director it seemed she hadn't and had no particular urge to leave her desk. "You might want to see this too." Once again, she had him curious, she seemed more rational today than she had been before, but there was still something there; she'd flinched, almost an erratic motion, when he was watching her and it was clear that it made her uncomfortable, this woman never ceased to confuse him somehow. He mentally noted it and continued to watch her for clues.

_**&Mosaics&**_

When Fornell put those ridiculous glasses on, Jenny resisted the urge to laugh; as clear-cut as those orders had been, this was a clear-cut joke on Fornell's behalf. She concentrated on the FBI agent, unable to meet the Doctor's eyes or the pair that belonged to the agent who was so intensely watching her.

She felt herself under scrutiny from everyone in that room, even Fornell seemed aware that something was ever so slightly strange – it was as if all 3 men were having an unspoken conversation about her; the prickling sensation of her nerves ran the length of her body putting her further on edge and a slight blush crept, a tiger disguised through tall grass, onto her cheeks and caught her off-guard. Jenny pulled her jacket around her and crossed her arms tighter across her stomach. The way her senior agent was watching her had her stomach relentlessly beginning to coil – she tried to ignore it.

In front of her she could see Gibbs' game being played out, Fornell as unsuspecting as ever and predictable too. The crinkles on the cool white sheet of paper held between her fingers were slowly becoming greater in number as she played out each one of moments of discomfort onto the feather-light object. The outburst from Fornell drew her attention:

"Woah, how did he die doctor?"

"Do you see the little black dots?" Ducky was showing Fornell where to look, but he caught the Director's eye, trying to at least bring a smile to her face at the FBI Agent's struggle.

"Oh yeah

"He was stabbed, repeatedly and fatally…"

"With what, a safety pin?" Even that she had to smirk at. She hazarded a look at Jethro and saw that he smiled at her – it was brief, and slight, but it was a smile. A shiver lingered on her skin a moment to long and she knew it was the way his eyes caught her in that moment. She tossed the sensation away, unable to afford such a free moment. The shiver was still there, as hard as she brushed it off with her thoughts it was lightly under her skin, as slightly as her hair brushed over her neck it was there. _Get a grip Jenny._ All it had taken was one look and he was under her skin, a frustration built in her blood and tensed her body – these erratic hormones were driving her crazy.

"Somebody killed your serial killer, Fornell." Gibbs spoke, and her stomach twisted ever so slightly.

"On a marine base…which means…it is still our jurisdiction." Jenny spat out the sudden emotions in her body and laced them into her sarcasm; into her fingers she poured everything she needed to rid herself of to relax and tore the paper with her frustration alone. If the smug look on her face was anything to go by, she'd more than enjoyed that, if not needed it – the look on Fornell's face only fuelled her sheer amusement.

The two agents made straight for the door in their usual style, Jenny tried to go with them. She did not want to be in a room alone with Ducky right now, not until she'd decided what to say to him; as she was called back she regretted putting those heels on that morning, she'd have made a better escape otherwise. She tried not to notice, but she couldn't help but register the looks she got from the other two agents as they left.

"What can I do for you Doctor Mallard? I am quite busy and I do have a lot of work to get done." Never before had endless reams of paperwork seemed so enthralling – she so badly did not want to have this conversation.

"If you cannot work that one out then I think we're all in big trouble, don't you?" He nodded towards her stomach, to her shaping bump. Jenny could not help but let her fingers rest there for a moment before raising her eyes to meet those questioning eyes of the Doctor. "My dear, why don't you take a seat?"

"Doctor…" He raised an eyebrow at her address and she let the formality slide, "Ducky, there's really nothing to be said. You shouldn't even know, so we'll just leave it at that, and I'll be gone." Stubbornly she had not taken the seat, instead like a child cowering from a confrontation with a parent she backed towards the Autopsy door. She turned away from him.

"The child is Gibbs' isn't it?"

Rocks grew out of nowhere, clamping her feet into the ground and covering her only exit from this place of truths, a surge of guilt washed over her at the situation she'd put Ducky into before it was replaced by a defensive that soared from ceiling to floor in front of her. It was built of as many excuses as she could think, of anything that would make a good offensive. Silence fell around her, as finally prepared as she could be, she did not want to make the first move. Jenny cursed herself that she should have been able to deny that accusation in mere seconds flat, instead her silence had spoken, if not screamed volumes of truths.

"It is alright Jennifer. I have no intention of telling him – it would be unethical of me." Something in his voice told her he didn't approve, perhaps that ironically, he thought it unethical of her not to tell Gibbs.

When she found her voice all of her previous concerns returned; there was something about staring the truth in the face, something about hearing it out loud that made her feel like it was back to being her taking on the Grand Canyon of the world. "How can it be alright Ducky? You must be able to see this?" She pointed aimlessly, but he nodded his affirmation that he could notice her bump. "I don't want to tell him, I don't want to see the look on his face. I don't want to tell anyone, I don't want to be looked at differently, I want to stay exactly where I am now!"

"I know you do Jennifer, but you have to tell him. Can you imagine his reaction if he has to work it out for himself, if he knew he was one of the last to know? You have to tell your bosses and you must look after your body and you must have a good long think about how you're going to raise a child. And finally you need to stop being so hard on Abigail, she did what she had to do, and I'm bloody glad she did."

Jenny's eyes fell to the ground in shame. Her old friend was always right when it came to putting things in perspective. She nodded her head in acknowledgement.

"Have you even been to have a preliminary scan done?" Ducky's tone was softer now; this was his concern for her coming through.

Jenny struggled to find her words. _Badum;Badum;Badum._ That sound was back in her head at just the thought of it. The black and white image flickering across the screen, moving around, as real as any baby she'd ever seen, and in the centre of the image the tiny white heartbeat flashing over and over – the image burned forever to her retinas. "I tried to…I…almost had an abortion." She'd said it.

"Oh Jennifer, I had no idea."

_**&Stones&**_

Packing her bag each evening was always the most uneventful part of the day. It was a thought she'd often mulled over at this time; by the time she'd left for the day most people were already gone – except Gibbs, he was after all an exception to most rules. She never left before Tony – that was something she promised herself – she'd witnessed some of the things that had been done to McGee's desk and possessions if Tony was there after he'd left and she was not going to give him an invitation to do the same to her.

Same as always Gibbs was at his desk doing paperwork, the two younger male agents had gone for the night and Ziva was packing her bag, except something was different tonight, the Director who was usually locked away in her office at this time had just stepped off of the elevator and made her way across the catwalk. Gibbs seemed tuned to notice too. The Israeli looked up, if she was honest, the woman who walked before her was not the Director today, but in every way she was Jenny – she looked vulnerable and had clearly been shaken by something – from the way his gaze intensified Gibbs had noticed too.

The older woman appeared to slip a hand to her spinal column and was tracing circles against her tired lower back muscles; Ziva concentrated a little harder, from what she could see the Director was walking differently, nothing so different, but there was something twigging in her mind and telling her something was different, awkward perhaps. The woman brought her other hand flush against her stomach, rubbing it in a motion Ziva could only describe as strange. Surreptitiously turning towards Gibbs she saw that he was half watching Jenny, aware of the company in the room with him – that was possibly the only reason he wasn't being more obvious. She looked back; Jenny was gone – disappeared back into the dark depths of her office.

Turning her attention back to what she was doing she put her last items into her back and in the back corner of her eye noticed the elevator doors behind her opening to reveal a male figure. Glancing she saw Agent Fornell arriving with two coffee cups, clearly one was not for her. Ziva grabbed her backpack from the desk she nodded goodbye to Gibbs who returned her action and repeated the same action as she passed Fornell on her way out. She took one last look back at the catwalk before getting into the lift, all the time mulling over in her mind what on earth was going on with Jenny.

_**&Mosaics&**_

The silence held a long time.

"I got to tell you Jethro, that was, that was, it was…" Fornell struggled to find a word to describe how unpredictable, horrific and seriously unbelievable the Bright case was.

"Mhmm"

"How is God's name could we have missed that?"

"I don't think God had much to do with it, Tobias."

Both Agents mulled over their thoughts. The only noise in the dimly lit empty squad room was the slight splash of coffee as it tossed like waves in their cups.

"You know what's really got me freaked out…?" Jethro looked to the other agent in response to his question. "If her husband's body hadn't gotten hung up going down that chimney 5 years ago she'd still be out there." Tobias paused to take a long sip of his tepid warm drink: "We'd never have caught her."

"I can do you one better than that, Tobias." A small grin crossed his face at the competition.

"Nah. You can't top that one Jethro."

"What was the toe doing in her husband's stomach?" Fornell gave a look that told tales of what he really didn't want to know and nodded his head in agreement. He leant back into his chair and took a very long drink of his coffee to contemplate that one – his friend mirroring his actions the other side of the desk.

"You got me there."

The room fell silent again. Gibbs had the distinct feeling that wasn't all Fornell wanted to say, he turned his head to the side and looked across at his FBI friend, Tobias definitely had a slight smirk on his face. "Something else Tobias?"

"I was wondering, it's something that's been bugging me these last few days…what's up with your Director?"

If he had been drinking at that moment, Jethro was sure he would've choked on his coffee; he honestly had very little idea what was going on with the woman, but he was glad to see he wasn't the only one that noticed; perhaps it was not just him that she was acting strangely around. "What makes you ask?"

"Just something I thought I'd noticed she seemed…perhaps a little bitchier than normal." He was clearly choosing his words carefully and treading just a little more diligently around the issue.

Gibbs caught the short chuckle in his throat; a smirk plastered to his face. He could just imagine how she would react if she was a little more 'in control' and she heard that. "Don't let her hear you say that, not if you want to get out of here entirely intact." He pondered the question a little further. "You could definitely say that, but I don't know what it is that makes you think I know anything about it?"

There was something in the way that Fornell looked at him that said he might disagree given the chance. Jethro tipped back the last of his coffee and cradled the cup in his hands, studying his friend and deciding he was intrigued on what it was he thought. "Spit it out, Tobias."

Fornell's smirk was decidedly cheeky, and that same cheekiness was present in his tone. "I thought that maybe you two were closer than that?" He was fishing, and both he and Gibbs were fully aware of it.

Gibbs let out a good laugh at that one and shook his head. "We're not going there; I'm not giving you anything on that one, Tobias. Believe entirely what you want."

Fornell's smirk was back. "I knew it." His accusation was full of amusement; Gibbs just shrugged his shoulders, internally, he was having the very same debate with himself – the woman was simply confusing and infuriating all at once.

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A/N - Thank you so much to all of you who are still putting up with the story, I appreciate it. It would definitely help me writing my next chapter if I had the moral support of REVIEWS!! So say what you want, I love to hear from you all, and remember, you're more likely to get a chapter next week if you R&R - cos seriously this one looks like a lot of work. Baby Revelation on its way in the near future.

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	15. Findings

A/N - Hey all, seems my updates are managing to be on time - this one is a little longer again, cos I couldn't make it any shorter. This chapter is tagged to Sharif Returns, but you could probably work that one out yourselves. Thanks to my awesome beta for doing recent chapters on a rush; this chapter is for MissJayne who has waited patiently and put up with my very annoying ranting emails and cos she's so busy at the moment - take some time, enjoy.

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It seemed abnormally strange to have received such a request from Ducky, but nonetheless Jethro complied; there was something about the way his older friend had asked that they 'have a chat' and 'catch up' that had him curious, particularly when Duck knew well enough that he had no wish to talk about his feelings. Jethro was certain that he held no grudges against his friend, they had both been treating the other rudely since his return and one apology later, they were back friends, picking up from where they'd left of.

Of course the idea had occurred to him that this was Duck's way of further saying he was sorry, but it was not necessary. The breakfast invitation could only be a sign of goodwill, and as long as he was not about to be ambushed by his team and half of NCIS, Jethro saw no reason why he shouldn't go. Thus, he found himself on the elevator ride down to autopsy at 8 o'clock on this uneventful and paperwork-flooded morning, a large fresh Jamaican blend from Starbucks resting in the iron grip of his right hand – he knew full well Ducky would not be upset by such an action. The pathologist knew better than to deny his friend coffee in exchange for an extensive supply of English teas – Gibbs held no interest in that 'stuff' as he might call it.

The elevator door opened and a satisfying 'ding' rang out through the shiny metal box; Gibbs stepped out of the elevator. Surely enough, a pot of tea had been brewed and beside it stood two mugs, the second one was unnecessary and both of them knew it, but it was just one of those gestures. Jethro chuckled as he saw the second of those mugs and Ducky smirked when he realised the object of his friend's amusement.

"Need I really ask, Jethro?" The Agent tipped his shoulders in a shrug.

"What did you want, Duck?"

He surveyed the room. Anyone else's first response to the scene in front of him would've been to be horrified at the thought of eating so casually in a place marked with death, those dead bodies only metres away. The thought, of course, did not cross his mind. Atop the Doctor's desk was a cup of coffee, remarkably similar to the one he had brought with him and settled on a plate beside it was an array of what must've been breakfast pastries; there was only one thing there that he would class as breakfast.

The Doctor poured himself a cup of tea and took one of the seats beside the desk, he did not need to offer the other one as it was taken just as quickly as he could've offered. Ducky mulled over Gibbs' question in his mind, he was wise enough to know that the reason he'd invited Gibbs down was more conflicted than he liked to think, he was bound by confidentiality rules, but that had no bearing on him trying to open Gibbs' eyes. Still, the guilt circled in the back of his mind, ready to pounce on him if he betrayed Jenny's confidence in the slightest or failed to get his message across.

There was more going on here. Jethro regarded his friend, his eyes filled with light and curiosity; somehow this felt like a poker game in which either his poker eyes failed him or Ducky's poker face was better than Ziva's. He doubted it could be the latter as he observed the slip of concern across the older gentleman's brow. For once in his life, Jethro did not press on with questions; instead he waited for whatever was so important.

"I just wanted us to have an opportunity to talk. I consider you the closest and dearest of my friends, Jethro and I thought that perhaps after all that has happened in the past two months it might be a good chance for us to catch up."

"Duck," there was something about the way that the older man was speaking that had Gibbs completely on edge, "Duck…you're not about to give me bad news are you?"

Ducky shook his head, almost violently; such a forceful action was needed to rid the other man of such an idea. "No, I didn't mean that, I just wanted you to have the opportunity to tell me about anything I've missed these past few months, perhaps that army lady-friend of yours."

"Is this about Shannon and Kelly?"

"Not really, Jethro, but that's a perfect example of how you don't open up to anyone. You'd think that in all the years we've been friends you might've mentioned your family once?"

"I had a family once, Ducky, a long time ago."

Gibbs' retort was cold, unfeeling on the surface, but Ducky knew that even talking about his family made him upset even when he refused to share it with the outside world. "It may be different, but you still have a family, Jethro." Ducky's mind was reeling as fast as the words came from his mouth, he was trying so desperately hard to watch what he said, but Gibbs was always so unpredictable that the man could easily catch him off guard.

He got no response.

Ducky continued, this was part of what he was trying to get across to the obstinate stubborn man. "…You might not want to admit it, but Jethro, you know that your team see you as a father figure; they are your family as much as Shannon and Kelly were." Gibbs gave no immediate response to the Doctor's tumult of words, his far from serene silence encouraging Ducky to continue. "It's not just your team Jethro, there's me, and Abby, and Jenny too…"

The mention of the woman's name penetrated deep into Jethro's thoughts, he did not want to talk about the family he'd lost and he most certainly did not want to talk about his crashing wave of a relationship with his boss, _what relationship?_

"…If anything, Jenny's the nearest thing you have to a real family, you are the same thing to her, so why on Earth do the pair of you constantly push the other as far away as possible?"

A grumble escaped the caffeine-ridden man, a grumble of discontent as to where this lecture was headed.

"…Do any of them know about Hollis? Have you even spoken to any of them about her? You should at least talk to the Director, regardless of what you're arguing about, you and she are closer than anyone."

"STOP. Okay, Duck, did you have anything else you wanted me down here for other than to try and offer me insight into my own life?" He paused and his companion kept and held the silence by its neck, wringing it tighter as the moment dragged on. "I know you're trying to get me to open up about these things, but you know better than that Duck. And if you're trying to sort out my _relationship_ with the Director, you don't even want to go there – I know I don't.

_**&Stones&**_

"Cynthia." Jenny had a million and one thoughts soaring through her mind, so many tendrils of ribbon intertwined that she could not concentrate on any one in particular; not even the events of the morning were at the forefront of her mind, they joined all of the others in the milky coloured haze that left her floating as she walked past her assistant and towards her office. Right now there was one thought she focused on, she was sure that if she didn't do something about it now that it would still be there in 30 second time.

The younger woman looked directly at the Director; a slight concern gracing her eyes as she regarded her boss and considered her noted absence this morning. "Yes, Director?"

Encompassed in silence, Jenny stood frozen in a momentary time shift, deciding how best to act upon her current impulse. "Can you order me half a dozen black roses, for today?"

Cynthia's eyes followed the other woman, questioning her curious request. Regardless of the absurdity of what her boss wanted, she was supposed to deliver, and that was her surviving policy, that along with not asking unnecessary questions. The older woman drifted closer to the portal of her office, she turned, adding just a little more to her wish: "I want it to say 'sorry'."

That was curious. Cynthia nodded, she was tempted to ask, but before she had the chance, the door handle twisted and the Director disappeared behind the glinting surface of the metal door. Whilst the assistant could guess who the gift was for, she could not read beneath the current exterior of her boss and friend, she could not deduce more than she already had. She noted the somewhat relaxed demeanour that had been absent in more recent weeks; whatever the Director was up to, it didn't seem to be doing any harm. She picked up the phone and dialled the Director's favourite florist.

The click of the door closing behind her, locked her into her own space, and Jenny let out the heavy breath she had held on the walk back from MTAC. Nerves had almost gotten the best of her, and whilst she was relieved she'd done it, she almost wished they had stopped her. The look on the SecNav's face was one she didn't wish to be responsible for again, that feeling of dread that had wound itself viciously through her stomach, and waited silently, with as much preparedness as was required, for her boss' next words. Exactly what his first words had been, she had no idea; instead she's been too busy in desperately steadying herself against the onslaught of horror and anger that never came. In its place shock resounded around the room.

The room had been empty but for her, a fact she was overwhelmingly thankful for, yet still she felt scrutinised, perhaps by imaginary eyes, for those belonging to the SecNav were wide with surprise. In her mind she struggled to gauge what the man's true response had been to her announcement, as always, a politician's words were glazed with platitudes, but behind that she was sure he had not seemed immediately angry or disappointed in such news.

A gasp of relief weaved through her as she reached such a conclusion, but the SecNav's calmness had her puzzled and that offered her a cause for concern. Perhaps this was as if she were handing the top members of the alphabet an excuse to rid themselves of her, NCIS had after all not been in the best of favour recently and that could be placed on her. _What would happen if she lost her job?_ She could not afford for that to happen, most certainly not right now, not with the operation she was running – not before all of her loose ends were tied up. Irrationally, panic was rising.

The door was forced obstinately open and Jenny jumped to reprimand her intruder – the only one person who would dare destroy her privacy in such a way, the one person who liked to keep her on her toes and always prepared. Gibbs had arrived, and this was not a good moment. Surge forces of emotions stormed their way through her, battered down by the superior force of her willpower in those seconds. "What do you want, Gibbs?"

Jenny knew for certain what she wanted; she wanted someone to tell her everything was going to be okay, someone not to be angry at her, who knew everything and could see a way forward in which she survived with all things rightly hers. No, she didn't want someone to do it, she wanted for him to do it. It would be better if he just knew, if there was a way he wouldn't be angry… Another set of footsteps entered the room and Jenny's mind wiped itself clean, a fresh-slate upon which new thoughts formed. She was not pleased to see who had followed him in her. It had to be her; Gibbs had to parade his latest future-ex-wife in front of her. She bit her tongue before she could speak any of her thoughts. _Since when should she care anyway?_ Still, she did.

Hollis Mann smiled at her, but she returned the gesture only as sincerely as her position required. If someone had been watching close enough they would've noted the deepening of the shade of emerald green in her eyes, the literal green-eyed-monster that owned of jealousy that spat its way through her veins. Gibbs was far too amused by the situation and himself to notice, or so she concluded. In fact, Jethro watched the match very closely; he could almost see the spits of fire held between the two women as they eyed up the other. It was blindingly obvious that his _boss_ was not impressed.

His eyes were on her. It took her a moment or two to get that thought through the cloud of emotion that blinkered her every movement. She reacted. Informing the SecNav was not a reason to let her guard down, Jethro could still see for himself and he could still do the maths and if he worked it out for himself that did not bode well for her. _If he found out, perhaps she could pass it off as not being his._ Legs still moving, as she walked around her desk, Jenny's mind stopped functioning – a blank stillness filling her internally, her external movements the function of a robot. She had not considered that for a moment before.

Her thoughts earned her a sharp stab in the stomach, she lurched forward as she sat down, a notion that went only slightly unnoticed. Eyes widened, bent forward, shocked, a mild look of pain shot across her face and the sensation appeared as strangely as it had arrived. Jenny was severely unnerved. She was scared – that had hurt - it couldn't have been normal; regardless, that thought was far gone.

Gibbs noticed that. He watched her as she sat down in her chair, he saw the momentary phase; her seconds of pain reached out to him and scorched against him. His eyes tried to find hers, but she would not let them, instead he resorted to a more conventional communication. "Jen, you okay?"

She snapped back at him, slightly more agitated than she'd aimed for and saw how he recoiled at her berating. "Why wouldn't I be, Agent Gibbs?" Guilt. That was what it was. That was the feeling that she felt every time she threw his concern back in his face. A swirling type of guilt that was always there, but on occasion nipped just that little bit harder at her, was just a little more than the usual dull ache. She repeated her question: "What can I do for you Agent Gibbs?"

"We think that Sharif was testing the BZ gas when he killed Major Maguire…"

"Testing it for what?" She shot her words back at him.

"It's a chemical weapon: take a guess."

There was something in his sarcasm that set her nerves alight, she did not appreciate him speaking to her like that, particularly when he was putting on a show for his…'girlfriend'…the word left a vile taste in her mouth and she couldn't even bring herself to say the word out loud. There was a crushing sensation that ebbed at her as she confronted the idea of this woman as Jethro's girlfriend. No-way; she was not going there. Jenny sliced her words back through the air between them; she would not be made to look a fool, least of all in front of that woman. "I meant do you have anything specific, a date, a target?"

"No, nothing yet." Jenny found herself struggling against her urges to hurt this woman who was currently the most significant cause of her irritation. That question was not aimed at her, yet she'd found the need to answer a question Jethro was more than capable of doing on his own. She, herself, knew much better than to do that – this Colonel Mann was clearly not caught up on the rules. Slowly she slighted her head in the direction of the other woman in order to briefly acknowledge her response, the look she gave laying down the rules of exactly who was in charge here. Pointedly, she turned back to Gibbs before she spoke again: "Is there any hard evidence suggesting that Sharif is planning an attack?"

"You mean other than the dead guy in our morgue?" She shifted in her seat, and eyed the man up, from his witticisms he was still acting like a 12 year old boy trying to impress a girl, as far as she was concerned, it was not working.

"…If you're worried about the lack of chatter…" _She_ was butting in _again_.

"Don't." And now Jethro took it upon himself to finish her sentences, Jenny could feel the cold-blooded viper in her coiling ready to pounce if these two provoked her much further; dealing with Jethro was a handful to her at the moment and dealing with Mann too just had her fired up for a fight. Somehow the baby was back at the forefront of her mind, her visit with the doctor had only highlighted its important in her life and now she was fuming that _this woman_, dared to call herself Jethro's 'girlfriend' and challenge her authority, when she, herself, was carrying his child.

"The last time Sharif planned an attack there was zero uptick."

'Well', she screamed the thought around and around her mind, 'that's nice to know'; Jenny shot a dirty look towards the Colonel, who stood there a smile plastered to her face and pointing out the blindingly obvious. "He certainly proved last time that he was a pro at flying beneath our radar." The politician Jenny was going to play this woman for all she had.

"Yes, but even if he's not planning on using the gas himself…"

"…He'll sell it to someone who will."

Jenny's eyes shot from one to the other, neither seemed phased by the finishing of the other's sentences, it was as if they'd come in here deliberately to play this game with her. She studied Gibbs' face, once she alone knew how to read and there she saw his mild amusement – he could clearly tell what this was doing to her, and yet he seemed not to care, as if he were enjoying winding her up. _Perhaps this was one of his stupid plans to avoid having to introduce Hollis to her?_ "Homeland security certainly loves non-specific threats!"

Jenny met his eyes. Silently each was reading the other, having the same eerie quiet conversation and confrontation that they would probably have later, only the next time there would be huge fireworks, broken objects and raised voices. Poignantly Jenny angled her gaze as far away from the Colonel as possible, so as to exclude her from this as much as she could; the message ought to have gotten home by now. Suddenly those silent voices were no longer screaming at each other, now, as Jenny had let her mind wander, she felt the layers around her being removed, she felt Gibbs reading far into the depths of her eyes – all the stories hidden there the ones that she had no wish for him to know about. For once she was thankful for the Colonel's presence, in her current condition she'd become too daring around Jethro; Gibbs might not put two and two together, but Jethro could see right through her mirror-like facades.

"So, how are we going to handle this? Our investigations have merged, who's going to take the lead?"

Removing herself from Jethro's watchful eye, she turned her attacks towards the Colonel, both literally and metaphorically. She was determined not like her. "You'll be working under Agent Gibbs," a quick glare told all the room's occupants exactly who held the cards, and Jenny made sure her practiced expression told every word she wanted it to. A measure of sarcasm never hurt either. "…your boss and I flipped a coin for it. Is that a problem?"

"No problem, I'm just…"

"…used to being on top!" The Director rolled her eyes at his crudeness.

"In command yes, but I've worked with Agent Gibbs before and I'm happy to again."

"Hmm" Jealousy shaving away at her strength, she turned back to her work to avoid the confrontation she did not need to start, not today.

_**&Mosaics&**_

Hollis was quieter than he'd ever heard her as they made their way from the Director's office and onto the balcony. Outside of the small space in which the other woman had sent her death glares for even breathing, she took in a deep breath and turned to her partner in investigation.

"You two have worked together a while, huh?" She took a few more steps away and then turned to him again. The air in that room had seemed almost poisonous, tainted by anger of the other woman, and perhaps a slice or two of her jealousy too. Hollis credited herself more greatly than to miss something like that, she too investigated crimes and she too knew when there was more going on than was being said. She'd felt overwhelmingly on show in that office and between the tensioned strings holding the room together she was surprised she had not been compressed and spat out. "How long?"

"The reason you're asking?" Jethro's defences were up, all it had taken was the smallest amount of probing and he immediately shut her out. The Colonel was suspicious of Director Sheppard and she was not going to leave the topic there. However, today, perhaps it wasn't worth it.

"Just curious, forget it."

She walked down the stairs away from him, leaving Jethro where he stood, clearly fixated on the same Director as she appeared from her office. Hollis would've sworn she was glowing exuberantly with this little battle she'd won over her; for a moment it looked as if she made to go towards Gibbs, her eyes fixated on him before she turned back to MTAC.

_**&Stones&**_

Ziva saw the scene unfolding before her on the stairs, she watched intricately and made no immediate move to point the interaction out to her work colleagues, it would draw too much attention to them. She'd noticed how the dynamic between Gibbs and Jenny had changed over the past few months, she was also gravely aware of the current 'secret' or perhaps 'not-to-secret' relationship between her boss and Colonel Mann. Of course, not to forget, she knew full well of the prior relationship between her boss and Jenny, it had not been something she'd been directly told but Ziva knew.

A movement across the squad room caught her attention as McGee looked up and caught her staring; he followed her eyes to the target and found the 3 adults, all 3 deathly still on the balcony. His eyes flicked between Ziva and the other 3, trying with all his detective abilities to decipher exactly what was going on: something was particularly weird.

In her opinion Gibbs looked amused at the situation, and she could almost understand why, his eyes slipped from one woman to the other and back again, as if he were being careful of both and aware that they might club together and come at him as a pack of wolves. The Colonel was a character she was unsure of, something told Ziva that she should be aware of the woman, and so she watched her more closely, but reading the woman's movements was easy as she made no attempt to hide behind her façade like the other two.

Jenny was the one Ziva was most concerned about; in recent weeks the Director had been acting more irrationally than usual, she had Tony going out on secret missions and she always avoided Gibbs, all 3 may have been connected, but how was something she was still working on. There was something subtly odd about her friend's appearance, and the more she studied it the more frustrated she became, if there was something Ziva really detested it was failing to find the last piece of the puzzle, and this one was evading her like none before.

Up on the balcony Jenny turned slightly to go towards MTAC and the other Agent followed the Colonel down the stairs. Ziva's attentions remained with the younger of the two women; she noted again what she'd previously noted, Jenny held herself differently when she was still. As the older woman turned away from squad room and leant down for the iris scan into MTAC, Ziva noticed it, the slightest of changes to her friend, but it was there. She was shocked; she would never have expected something like that – suddenly Abby's words made so much more sense. In that moment floods of words came into her mind, all jumbled together, but nevertheless she could in an instant finally understand what it was that had made Jenny so upset at Abby, why Ducky had been acting strangely around the Director, and most importantly it made her appreciate the change in her friend's behaviour. It was something they'd talked about on many occasions whilst undercover, but it summed up to one thing alone – Jenny was terrified of becoming a parent – she'd said so herself. _How could she have missed it??_

Ziva excused herself to her fellow Agents who looked on bemused by Ziva's sudden revelation; she had to speak to Abby.

_**&Mosaics&**_

"Jennifer?" A head appeared round the door of her office about an hour after she'd finally retreated back there; apparently she hadn't heard him knock.

"Ducky, come in." She was calm with him, but it wasn't as if she had much other option, if she threw a fit about him being involved in her business he'd have to do something about her, and she didn't want to think what a medical doctor may be capable of when pushed. That fact alone frustrated her, but it didn't hurt to have someone she could really talk to, especially since Abby had yet to reply to her apology. She knew full well what he was here for though. "Come and sit down."

Nerves fluttered in her belly as she made her way over to the sofa to sit with him, gripped tightly in her hand was her first ultrasound image and she could not let it out of her sights. Gingerly she took a seat beside the Doctor and chose her words with the deepest care. "I haven't shown this to anyone else."

"I know that, my dear, you don't have to if you don't want to. I just wanted to take a look."

She kept the image in her tight grip. Nerves were not her only issue here, at the hospital she'd absorbed the other Doctor's words very carefully and her concern for what he'd told her was very evident to Ducky. "The doctor told me there are big risks with the pregnancy and also that there are concerns about how healthy the baby will be."

It was a question, but what she really sought was reassurance and she found that in the knowing Doctor's words. "Let me take a look, Jennifer. I'm sure the baby will be fine, unless the Doctor told you something was wrong, everything is fine and you shouldn't think otherwise." Ducky's hands clasped around hers and as she relinquished hold he took the image from her, turning it over with the lightest of touches and regarding the scan with the awe of any family member – this child would after all be the youngest addition to their family, but nevertheless, it would be one of them.

"The baby looks big; I assume you're past 12 weeks?"

Jenny nodded. "The Doctor said the same thing, he was concerned that I hadn't come in at 12 weeks, but I explained to him who I was and he told me that it was okay this time, but that I had to come in for all my other scans. I'm about 18 weeks according to…I'm 18 weeks." That was the one thing she could say with a certainty, the one solid fact that she had about this child or the situation, and she sought comfort in it.

"Did the doctor say anything about the baby's sex?"

A flash of concern visited Jenny's eyes, and Doctor Mallard tightened his grip on her hand.

"It doesn't matter if they didn't, there's nothing wrong. It's a wee bit early anyway, although…" He studied the image more intricately. "…Although, I might be able to tell you if you want to know."

Jenny shivered with excitement, this was not a decision she wanted to have alone, it was the sort of thing that couples do, but the suspense of being on the edge of knowing had a strong hold on her. _Do I? Don't I?_ The questions raged around behind her eyes, almost visible to Ducky as he watched her reaction closely. Nervous hadn't even covered how she'd felt before, this was purely exhilarating, it was that fateful moment when you finally decide whether or not you want to do the bungee jump, whether or not you want to parachute from an aeroplane, despite the comparisons, those decisions had been simpler to make despite the audacity of the experiences.

"Yes, yes Ducky, I want to know."

He smiled at her, more than smiled, he beamed her excitement straight back at her.

_**&Stones&**_

Hidden in the deep dark depths of MTAC, Jenny found herself trying to calm her superiors about the situation, she knew what she was doing and she had things happening, she didn't need to be told what to do. "We've ID-ed Sharif as one of their employees…"

"…former employees." A voice just over her shoulder whispered into her other ear; she almost jumped out of her skin as she span to see the perpetrator. She knew who it was already; something about having that man's breath down her neck signalled who it was before he even spoke, not to mention how much he turned her on, because today her hormones were all over the place.

"Call you back!" She looked straight into his eyes, one of those looks that told her something more than he meant for it to, but quite what it meant she knew not. Jenny, was however, concerned after Sharif's claim to have poisoned Jethro, he was perfectly capable of it.

"Sharif hasn't shown for work since the attack." She turned to see Colonel Mann beside him; it wasn't that she hadn't noticed her, just that she'd been too wrapped up in Jethro being there that she hadn't thought about her.

"Probably because he's too busy preparing for his next one." She turned towards the large MTAC screen to where the image of Sharif's sprayer contraption had been caught on camera earlier in the day. "The missing sprayer is truck mounted but could easily be adapted for a small aircraft. I'm having mobile sensors deployed at every marine base on the East Coast."

The Colonel cut in before she could quite finish; "The FAA finished grounding all small aircraft?"

"In the works."

"Ducky says there's an antitoxin?" Looking up she nodded her head in confirmation of his question.

Again the Colonel took it upon herself to point out the obvious, earning herself a slight glare. "Needs to be delivered to all Trauma One's and Base Hospitals."

"In the works."

"I hope 'in the works' means something different here than where I come from." Jenny looked up from the papers she was signing, across at Jethro and then shot a full glare at the Colonel – this was her Agency, she was not being told by a guest Agent how to d her job. Here she was trying to avoid a terrorist attack and the woman wanted to start a fight.

"Keep hoping." Jethro kindly added with a smirk.

A quick glance again at the papers and Jenny handed them to the Agent in charge of the operation she'd just signed off on. As she looked up again, Jethro seemed just a little phased out, a dreading feeling building in her stomach, _what if Sharif had poisoned him?_ "Jethro, are you okay?"

He still seemed slightly awkward. "Yeah." He turned and left the room leaving her far from reassured.

"Colonel Mann?"

The older woman turned back. "Yes, Director?"

"He is not fine." She couldn't put it more bluntly, but she would ask the Colonel to watch out for him if that was what it took.

"Well we're all under a lot of stress."

Jenny erupted into her verbal attack, this woman was clearly dismissing her concern rather than considering Jethro's wellbeing, and that infuriated her. "A word of advice: Agent Gibbs is one of the best agents around, but when it comes to dealing with bureaucracy is not one of his stronger points."

"And your point?" Jenny would really like to smack the Colonel right now, how could she be so blind?

"My point is that I almost lost him 6 months ago, and I don't want a repeat!" How true that was of her – except that she'd lost him, found him, and lost him again all by herself, she didn't really need Sharif's help to lose him again, but she did not want her child fatherless.

"Well, with all due respect Ma'am, I think Agent Gibbs can take care of himself: I think you know that."

"Yes I do; that will be all." She hoped to God he could look after himself, because she wasn't going to be able to.

_**&Mosaics&**_

Jethro Gibbs looked over at the woman who was sprawled out on the bed beside him, her beautiful bare back open to the air and yet his thoughts were not there with her, not the entirety of them. Glancing at the clock he saw the time 01.14. There was something he had to do, something that had struck a chord with him today, and something that he had to follow up.

Pressing a kiss to the forehead of the blond sleeping peacefully, he grasped his phone from the nightstand, and pulled the bedroom door to once he was outside, desperate not to wake the woman whose home he was in.

_**&Stones&**_

The phone did not ring out through the house, nor did it wake the red-head who was laid down on the bed beside it as the volume was off and it offered no movement; face down the display lit up featuring a name she would wish to speak to if she'd been awake, but the light did not disturb her either. She remained in a peaceful slumber, curled under the blankets, one hand wrapped protectively around her slowly protruding stomach and the other gripping the ultrasound just beside where she'd written a name, a name she'd chosen for her special little baby.

The phone rang off and went to answer-phone as a quiet voice spoke into it. "Hey Jen, I don't know why I'm calling - you're probably asleep, but I just…I wanted to talk to you. Today's been really hectic, but I…just…maybe we should talk some time."

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A/N - I know I hinted that the big reveal all scene would be soon, but I meant it, like very very soon from now. So, as I am doing Physics homework, we have a formula:

More Reviews + Smiley Happy People - (EQUALS) - A Very Happy CrazyPrune - (EQUALS) - The Next Chapter (Very Quickly with That Big Scene and some added extras too)

Comprendo??

(Click that button, tell me what you want to happen. How do you want Gibbs to find out? I'm interested. There will be chocolate cake for anyone who guesses right)


	16. A Blow Back Down to Earth

A/N - Hi all,

I'm sorry that the update wasn't a little sooner, but I was a little lax in sending it to my beta and thus everything's been pushed back a few days. This chapter carries an M rating. It looks like this chapter takes us upto 50,000 words, so it's time for a celebration and this chapter seems incredibly suitable. I couldn't resist with the title - as you can guess the episode is tagged to Blowback. This is **the** chapter you've all been waiting for, so without further ado...

Enjoy.

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The stressed scientist was not as mad as she could be, but this computer was certainly straining her sanity. She looked across in panic at her counterpart in the room and shot him a look that told him of her upset. Her favourite computer of the moment was working on decoding the password that protected the one she was working on, but the day was not going her way and her boss was there on the phone expecting answers. So bad was the urge to run off and buy herself a Caff-pow to help herself concentrate that she almost conceded once, but her duty was here, and here she dutifully was, no matter how jittery the lack of caffeine was making her. "We have to tell him, Timmy."

Timmy's eyes widened as he shot a look back at her, knowing full well that his boss would've certainly heard. "Abby." He whispered accusingly, concerned of how short his future might look if they couldn't crack this code.

That feared voice rose out through the speakerphone. "Tell me what, Abs?"

Both jumped as if he were in the room with them, and Abby couldn't help but shoot a quick glance around the room to check. Sure the room was clear of any of her boss' magical abilities or bugging devices, she turned back to the phone and spoke. "Wow, there sure ain't nothing wrong with your hearing, Gibbs."

"Abs?" There was a menacing levity in his voice that amused and frightened the scientist and her sidekick ever so slightly.

A notice jumped up on the screen, as it had so many times already in that day: _"Access Denied" _Reluctantly, the scientist gave away their position, admitting defeat by this goddamned computer and its far more greatly accomplished owner. "You wouldn't happen to have the password for this thing would you?"

Abby jumped for joy as she typed in the keys she was commanded, almost bouncing on her toes as she hit the last keystroke. No message came up, instead the screen changed; the scientist bounced more freely, the same smile in her words as on her face. "Wow Gibbs; You slayed Goliath!!"

A chuckle rang out from the speakerphone before the phone rang off. The Goth turned upon her Timmy, grasping him tightly round the shoulders and pulling him into a, now bouncing, hug. Over his right shoulder she saw a splash of red hair and pulled away from the agent, with a bounce in her step she flew towards the room's latest occupant, greeting her with the same hug, and whispering her words of gratitude: "I loved the flowers, thank you."

Jenny smiled into the taller woman's shoulder, thankful that this loving young woman had such a good heart to forgive her. Returning the hug with as much enthusiasm as her heels could muster; she couldn't bounce, but wished she could. "It's I who should be thanking you, I think." The elder of the two women pulled back first, aware of the Agent in the room who was thankfully still unaware of the reason their close friendship had been grafted upon. "Agent McGee," she greeted him awkwardly as Abby was only just untangling herself; the woman's eyes widening, hidden expertly from the view of her sidekick, as she felt the Director's pregnant stomach just brushing against her own – even before it hadn't seemed real, now she was very excited for her good friend. Secretly, she gave a knowing smile.

"Jenny, what are you doing down here??"

The Director smiled apologetically: "Actually, Abs, I was looking for Agent McGee." She saw the smile on the younger woman's face fade ever so slightly, but it remained there enthusiastic still. "It was a case that I needed to speak to him about."

McGee nodded at her in acknowledgement of her request.

"We can talk later then. I'll have my people call your people." Abby beamed, and waved at her friends as they exited her lab, Jenny giggling at her, and McGee's eyes widened in utter bewilderment; he'd no idea that the Director and Abby were such good friends; that was enough of a revelation in itself.

Once they were inside the elevator, the Director got out her Blackberry and turned to McGee. "I need your help with something."

"I thought this was about a case?"

"It is…in a way. How easy is it to trace an anonymous emailer?"

_**&Stones&**_

She wanted to kiss him.

That was the only reckonable thought in her otherwise foggy mind, how on earth she'd gotten herself into this situation was beyond her realm of thought, buried deep in a forbidden kingdom somewhere; this was not a situation in which she was capable of thinking.

He was locked into his position between her and the window, but she doubted that he was stuck there, she ought to know him well enough to know that he managed to get himself out of any place he doesn't want to be in. Infuriating as that ability might be, it told her that he wanted to be there, or so her equally infuriating mind was telling her.

Snippets of the last 15 minutes kept entering her mind, miniscule parts in a play of reasons why she was currently pressed against his firm body with the blinding urge to taste him. She remembered Tony coming to see her and that Trent Kort was working for La Grenouille – everything she was doing at the moment came back to either that man or the one before her, she couldn't decide why. Jethro…yes, he was suspicious of her, he thought that she and Tony were up to something… no, he knew she was running a mission now, she'd admitted that to him, but she recognised that he thought there was more to it; whether what they both meant by 'more to it' was the same thing or not was something else entirely.

Those two blue oceans stared at her, mere inches from her; they were studying her face, each and every one of her features, her inner emotions. She knew those stirrings in her stomach, the ones that were there every time she argued with him. They were more than just stirrings in that moment, flashes of red anger, green jealousy, black hatred and blue, oceans of blue, flashed through her body, spreading like wild-fire in her blood, storming with her hormones in a mixture of pure urge. She wanted to kiss him, but she wanted him too. Caution had been tossed to the wind the moment she'd first acted on impulse. What was there to stop her?

Her grip was strong and he held perfectly still, her fingers curved around the taut muscles of his upper arm; he was waiting for her, the smile tugging seductively at his lips – he would go with whatever she did. She kissed him – in her mind's eye at least. As she watched on, everything was suddenly a shade of blue, one hand forcefully behind his neck, pulling him down to her height, her lips a relentless force on his, nothing at all careful about her attack, his surrender to her inevitable as she tasted his tongue against hers - relishing the touch – something she had almost burn to her memory. His hands sliding under her shirt, up her back – those calloused fingers almost burning to the touch; her free hand spanned the powerful muscles of his stomach against his warm inviting skin. Tracing a path towards her breasts, his fingers tapped across her stomach – her pregnant and protruding stomach.

She shoved him away, the window holding him in place and thrusting her away from him and back into the room; shock at the thought hit her - that was exactly why she wasn't going to go there, her irrational emotions could not and would not rule her. The entire events and thoughts of her mind taking a mere few second of time in this reality. She did not dare look to Jethro's eyes for there she would see her actions and inactions mirrored back, he held a smile that told her he knew exactly what she was thinking, and short of a few accuracies, he would be right.

She turned towards the team in the middle of the squad room, and he followed.

_**&Mosaics&**_

Jenny found herself becoming absorbed into the comfortable leather of the chair, it's healing touch only just managing to calm her nerves; she'd been on an apprehensive high ever since Tony had showed her that picture, ever since she'd found herself mentioning the name 'La Grenouille', ever since her hopes of finally getting to him had finally been given a chance.

A small cough to her left drew her attention to Ducky, who was standing over her shoulder, the compassion spread across his features told her that he was feeling sorry for her, possibly the last thing she needed. "Might I take the window seat, Jennifer?" He repeated his earlier quip, coaxing the small smile out of her, as he sat down to her right, glancing out of the window and pretending not to be watching her.

The private plane was far big enough for them all to be sitting in their own areas with their own windows and to be left to their own thoughts, in a way she was thankful that Ducky was considerate enough to sit with her, in the other, she had secluded herself for a reason. Their plan was far fetched to say the least, and grandiosely immoral; despite the fact that Ziva usually was involved in plots like these and that Tony could be swayed to it, she could see both theirs and the team's eyes criticising her actions, second guessing just whether they should be doing this. And to top it all off, Ducky felt sorry for her. If she was truly honest she was grateful, for he was doing this mission for her, without him she would've been climbing the walls of her office, desperately searching for someone to take Harrow's place; he was also the only person here who knew about her pregnancy, who could keep an eye on her and who knew how taxing it was on her body.

"You don't have to worry about me, Ducky."

"It wasn't you I was concerned for my dear."

They shared a look – nothing more needed to be said on the matter, particularly when it could be overheard. As it turned out a private plane wasn't as private when you put a few people on it.

"I know you don't want me to interfere, but you seem very driven to get this man."

"Was there a question in there somewhere, Doctor?"

"Your reactions have seemed somewhat irrational, and I promised you that I'd look after you both to the best of my ability, and that includes asking questions, Jennifer."

"I'm not obsessed." The cool sharp edge with which her words were executed was symbolic of denial.

"I didn't say…"

"…No, you just insinuated it."

They both fell quiet again.

"I don't mean to get snappy at you, I'm just nervous. It's been a long…assignment and we're only getting one chance." Her voice was quiet, her eyes directed only forward.

"I'm more than happy to give you that chance, so long as it keeps your blood pressure down, and the…is okay." Jenny nodded in agreement.

They sat in companionable silence and listened as the rest of the team went over the tactical positions, airfield layouts and such. Apprehension built in her stomach; she had a bad feeling about something, and she could only assume it was the mission. If she felt like this then Gibbs must've noticed it too, hazarding a glance behind her she observed the team at work, finishing their last minute preparations: McGee checking and double checking the computer and any information he would have to feed Ducky, Tony and Ziva, still 'discussing' the most advantageous tactical position, a 'conversation that usually ended with Ziva: "I've done more of these missions than you." As Gibbs looked up to her, she turned back. Ducky had been watching too, only watching her as well.

"You haven't told him yet, have you?"

The endless frustration rising inside of her, Jenny felt herself being accused, the anger in her flaring up only to be quelled by Ducky's concern, again cursing her hormone induced brain for being so easily shifted from one emotion to another. Still, the guilt had nothing to do with hormones and everything to do with her actions and that was fluttering alongside the bad gut feeling in her stomach.

"No. I don't know how to."

"He may not be very observant when it comes to those closest to him, but he will notice, you probably have a month at the outside before you won't get a chance to tell him."

She was angry at herself for creating the situation, she'd given herself 2 options months ago and now she couldn't follow through with her choice she was left with no reasonable options at all. Jenny gasped as something hit against her stomach; she propelled herself forward at the force, sharpness and shock of it. In seconds Ducky was discretely at her side. "Jenny, are you okay?"

"I don't know, it's this really, I can't describe it, but it hurt. It happened the other day, and a couple of times since." She kept her voice quieter than panic would normally allow. The pain hit again, this time she was more prepared, it did not seem as severe as the first had, in fact without the shock of such a thing catching her off guard, it did not seem as menacing as before. Grabbing for Ducky's hand she held it to where the pain was coming from.

This time Ducky felt the impact. He chuckled at her. His voice low enough that the others wouldn't hear when he explained: "Jennifer, that's the baby, kicking. It shouldn't hurt that much; it seems this one's quite active."

She looked at him, utterly shocked at what he was saying. Ducky sighed, and resigned himself to having to show her to reassure her; he removed his hand, grasped hers and pressed it against her expanding stomach, sure enough another kick came.

_**&Stones&**_

The mission was a failure. She had failed her father: again. Jenny threw the bag of diamonds in her hand onto her desk, landing softly atop a pile of papers and sending one or two of those papers falling from her desk or scattering across it. Jenny Sheppard wanted to cry, but when there were other people still around this was not the place, but it sure as hell felt like the right time. She looked to the frames photo of her father on her desk and turned it face down; she would not want him to see her like this, to see her fail him so completely. A tear or two escaped for her stupidity at not getting the man who destroyed her family – the rest would be saved for later.

She tipped the diamonds from the bag, letting them fall in a semicircle around her, admiring the way that they glistened so subtly in the dim light she had turned on and in the streams on moonlight that drifted through the window pane. The last of her few tears dripped off of her cheek and landed on one of the diamonds, the jewel having an expensive looking glisten to it, splitting the colours of light like a prism. That seemed ironic to her, that tears made diamonds more beautiful.

"How many are you keeping?" She did not need to look up to see who had entered the room, she'd known before he'd even spoken.

"Did Ducky fix Harrow's time of death?" Jenny was subdued, willing away the last tears in her voice, determined not to be beaten by the night's events. Her mannerisms just a touch too cold, a sign that she'd tried to turn off all her emotions, flicked the tiny switch that as much as she'd tried to keep down, was relentlessly being bypassed.

"On the record he will drop dead of a heart attack, tomorrow."

"Good. I wouldn't want Grenouille to discover he'd met a dead man." The mention of the man's name threatened the floodgates that were keeping her in check, forming cracks along them, teasing her. She fingered the jewel between her fingers with a renewed vigour, almost squeezing it hard enough that it might break in her grasp, shatter to pieces like the sum of all her efforts so far.

Controlling her mind, Jenny focused herself on the intricacies of how the light hit these tiny gems, laying them in specific patterns, accurate to the nth degree. "Harrow altered the weapons system. If the Iranians even try to use it they'll be targeting their own defence systems." The diamond toppled from it's position, the light touch of her finger either too little or too much to get it standing just as she hoped. It twisted and span, like her thoughts, an irritant to her. "Quite a strategic advantage."

"I didn't need to know that."

"Neither did I, but somebody thought they could trust me." Swiftly as anything, Gibbs was fading out of this room with her, replacing him was what felt like a drawn confession of guilt – tugged upon by strings and layers of that same intangible thing, all the threads weaved together in most beautiful of silks. The compulsion of the jewels before her became more enticing as her words flew more freely, less inhibited by her thoughts. "I will get him - another time, another deal. I will be there, and I **will** get him."

"Are you sure you want to?" Jenny's head shot up, torn violently from her trance-like state.

"Of course I want to." The accusation left her reeling. _Could he seriously believe that?_

"Some people need to have someone to hate."

"What are you trying to say, Jethro?" Her voice rose through a tone or two, the mood of the room quickly descending back into what it had been before - tumultuous and rocky – a perilous combination for both of them.

"I'm saying you should've let Ziva take that shot." Jethro backed away slightly, not one to flee an argument, but not expecting the lashings hurled at him; those eyes burned white hot, the green dazzled in the diamond light – sexy, but an almost demonic sight.

"Don't you dare criticise my operations." Her fury raged fires that he had not seen before.

"I was not criticising, only…"

"You have no idea about him, you have no idea about any of this, so don't pretend to be so well informed that you can call me out on anything." Jenny stood to her feet; fury taking control, fury dragging her feet to the ground, fury forging the decisions.

"Jenny," he pleaded with her to calm down, she was stressed out, that even he could tell, and this bomb was particularly delicate today, he did not want to be there when the impact hit, he cared too much to let her lose it without a support to rely upon – this was clearly personal enough for the fallout to be nuclear. "You need to calm down."

"Don't patronise me!" She spat at him, rounding the desk with as much efficiency as a broken light bulb, almost dripping with the angry venom that unbalanced her so.

"JENNY! This is way beyond irrational, way beyond personal, and you need to get a grip before you push yourself over the edge." His voice was commanding, but it had risen beyond what her highest screaming voice could achieve, to the average person it would've been terrifying, his words were being spat back at him as she returned his shouts with equal fervour, but he could not be outdone, always a greater force than she'd been. He moved towards her as to grab her and shake her into submission, to shake the sense from her feet and back to her head – the irrationality had been holding that fort far too often recently, but she grew enormous elephant-size strength as she pushed him away from her.

"Don't you are touch me! Who are you to talk about irrational, the man whose best friend is a boat and who runs away from his problems and the people around him and drinks himself into oblivion, yeah, you're the best person to be giving me guidance counselling!!" He was quiet for a moment, her momentary pause, only that, leaving him no time to intervene. Jenny furiously kicked her foot into the dense air, the sharp heel whistling through the cool clouds pelting down a rain of rage onto them. Missing, one shoe, Jenny toppled, grabbing the desk for support and tearing the remaining offending item from her foot, hurling it after its partner, and almost hitting her own in the process – the sharp point of the shoe curling closer, skimming Jethro's neck by only a few inches this time. "Oh yeah, the man of all righteousness, you're half my problem, you know that, you're responsible for half of all of this!"

Gibbs was finally rising to her game, the sheer irritancy radiating from his eyes, his persona defensive, and his attacks finally becoming aggressive – playing right into her hand, or he would be if she had any more of a plan but to shift blame. "Oh, nice one, Jen! What did I do this time?? Last time I checked it was you who left – TWICE – just so you remember. You who is too busy with yourself that you're blinder than a…than a…"

She laughed, an angry laugh, filled with every emotion she had; jealousy, hatred, and obsession filling the voids in her eyes and throat. The Director's hurricane filled the office, twisting and turning, grasping and tearing at objects around them and throwing things into the mix whenever it could: Ripping at the office furniture, slicing at each of them, hurling in arguments, and building up for the climactic finish of destruction. It left in it's path trailblazing fires and two rage ridden monsters.

The laughter was manic, as manic as the emotional hold in the room, as it subsided, she screamed at him, the first words that came to her mouth, digging deeper for a greater reaction: "You wanna know why you're not so innocent; what you did to start everything?" she goaded him to react, as great a temptation as there was in his eyes, he was held back by her next words: "Genius, you got me pregnant!"

The reaction was anti-climatic.

Jenny plummeted from her screaming emotional high faster than a bungee jumper – with no rope attached.

The room's storm was replaced by a gaping void.

Jethro heard her words. Shock hit him full in the face, faster than a bullet train and more painfully than if it had been launched from her right hand. Thoughts of words were impossible. _She was…?_ Mouth agape, his eyes focussed on her, her stomach – she had to be lying, she had to be making it up in the gravity of the moment. But he could see it. There was definitely a curve to her belly. She sunk to the floor; he mirrored her action. He landed beneath the conference table, she in front of her desk.

"What?"

Silence. She was more stunned than he. Months of secrecy and now this.

His emotions blinded him in a sandstorm. He wanted to hate her, to hurt her for lying to him, for hurting him, yet at the same time she was suddenly angelically beautiful – the mother of his child. In front of him he could see two women, and it was horrifically confusing.

She couldn't say the words again; she couldn't say much at all when she was sitting with her hand over her mouth, in shock and gagging herself from saying any more.

"Jenny…I need to hear you say that again." His voice was dagger cool, as if on the brink of launching into a rage, everything inside of him screaming at him, telling him to do one thing or another, nothing materialising in more than screaming echoes. He watched as she grappled with the idea of it, slowly realising that she had no option that she had to give him what he needed.

"I'm pregnant." The second time it fell on anticipating ears, the words a happy rejoice at the concept of fatherhood, but a lingering notion that he could not trust her, that she had deceived him so deeply, that he could not know how much further or deeper her lies went. All his previous thoughts about La Grenouille had gone, dropped from the window in the moment she had accused him. _She had accused him…_ In his head he was bombarded with insane ideas, one's he did not want to consider, but nevertheless they were there, relentless in demanding that they must be known. _Was he really the father? _She would surely not go that far.

A sob escaped the woman on the other side of the room, he looked up, desperately grappling with the emotions taking hold of him, and trying so hard not to act before he had thought, but the sight of her crying was winding him in towards her, a familiar pull that he could not ignore. He moved; sitting beside her, a foot or so between them, he could not bring himself to touch her, his presence there forcing her to stop crying, to take onboard the gravity of this situation. He had to ask. _Could he really trust anything she said anyway?_ Jethro waited until his voice was as level as he could make it, his emotion slipping in accidently: "Is it really mine?"

The sharp, harsh reality of those words was recognised by both of them. Jenny quivered with another withheld sob, and Gibbs could swear he almost felt it, he so wanted to hold her, to deal with this new life, but the two would not go together. She reached for him, taking his hand in hers, as she searched for him with her eyes, finding him hidden away deep beneath the layers of hurt in his blue seas, shedding the slightest drop under her gaze. Her skin felt hot around his wrist, burning almost, as if it was wrong to touch her as if touching her were synonymous with forgiving her.

"Jethro, of course he's yours."

"He…" Jethro breathed out the word with a sigh of relief at her answer.

She nodded.

Jethro pulled from her grasp, he couldn't stay here - he needed to think. He needed to work out for himself what it was he wanted, to fully realise that he was going to be a father; he was going to have a son. A son. He could not do that in front of her or with her or even think about her. She had hidden things from him so much already; it was just another layer to the deceit.

Jethro knew she cried again as he exited the room, but he did not look back.

_**&Mosaics&**_

Wandering endlessly, time slipped from his grasp as if it were an endless resource, one that fruitfully multiplied and let him drift between the realms of thought and reality as if they were no different from the other. How much time had passed was a relative thought, it did not matter in the place he dwelt, for here was a place sunlight had never seen, the dark was permanently dark and the light forever remained that way, the concepts of hours, days, nights or perhaps even weeks did not find a use here. Even the trains did not need time, for they appeared every so often, far more often than he required but people came and went with them, but here he only counted his time in trains and stations.

He stayed in no place long, not that he could say how long; in this place below the ground there were no clocks, in order to find one he would have to venture away from here, but in that time he'd felt no urge to, for such a great adventure required decisions, ones he did not want to make. Restless in his current position, he stood, swaying with the movement of the floor as the lights inside flickered dim and then bright again; out of the murky windows it was dark apart from the odd bright star that danced past his view so quickly that he barely glimpsed it. The crumpled piece of paper that he passed under his fingers as they slipped into his jeans pocket was a Day Ticket, but what was that really, down here.

People rushed in and out of here, and nobody noticed him, nobody bothered him as he changed from one train to the next, sitting in stations as one train passed through, then the next, even a third – he always was gone by the third. Three – a number of monumental meanings - the third life in a family, a small child. That was why he was here, here to think, to stay as far from the real world in order that he could decide, in order that he knew what he could do; ironically he could make this decision, he could think in the most chaotic place in the city.

Jenny. The single most beautiful woman in the world to him, the most delicate, and thoughtful of women and yet the one who crashed in and out of his life dashed any plans he made, any attempt to move forward and who lied to him - who tore away and slashed at his skin every time she lied, twisting the corkscrew deeper with each word.

His child, the thought of his son almost brought tears to his eyes. To him it was a miracle, a chance to be a father again, to correct all the mistakes he made last time, and to protect this child. He had to do that, whether it was an obligation or not, he wanted to protect his son, to be there for him regardless of what Jenny wanted. _But what about her, what did she want?_

He wanted to scream, to howl out all of his frustrations and think without his mind being constantly interrupted, without loosing his train of thought deep inside the underground stations. Everything was built up so high around him, the walls built layers tall of brick; bricks of emotion, of deceit, of friendship and of desire. He could not see past any of it, so pent up with anger at her, mostly at himself, for not noticing, for making everything so much harder for not being there for her.

Jethro pressed his forehead against the cool metal of the train wall, letting out a sigh as he did so, the chilled material sending shivers across his skin; his head shook with the non-stop vibrations of the train as it made its way along the bouncing tracks. Thoughts of everything ricocheting with the erratic movements of the train; he had to do something.

_**&Stones&**_

It was late, but she could not sleep – she had tried many times, but calmness seemed unable to find her and restlessness imposed itself upon her time and time again. She sought solace in the realms of her study, hoping desperately to loose herself to sleep she demanded through the pages of a book. It would not come.

A tapping sound disturbed her from the sleep-withdrawn trance holding her so forcefully in its grip. That noise came again, three taps – the sound echoing as if the sound were just slightly absorbed by wood. Tap; Tap; Tap. The familiar sound took her a few moments to recognise, she rose to her feet, like a reluctant sleepy sun, hiding beyond the horizon and prolonging the red skied dawn. The last thing Jenny had expected was to be disturbed at this hour, it occurred to her that she did not know what hour it was, and a glance up to the clock on the shelf, secretly hidden between two piles of books, told her almost exactly what she had thought – 6.49am – almost morning, and not a drop of sleep in her body. The sun would not grace the skies for at least another hour.

Tying her robe tighter around her body, she ordered her stubborn feet to work, making her way over to the door. There were only two reasons for there to be someone at her door, the first was a terrorist attack, which she suspected she would've received word of before someone turned up unannounced – the only other person that would want to see her would be Gibbs, and somehow she doubted he wanted to see her anytime soon, but nevertheless she knew it was him. Bracing herself for the verbal assault that was to come, she gripped the door handle with the subtlest notion of fear before she opened it so slightly, revealing the man she'd expected.

"Jethro, please, if you're here to argue, please don't." The words were out of her mouth before the door was wide enough to even be able to see him, or him to see her. Greeting her was the potent smell of alcohol, although not his usual poison, instead he smelt of beer and spirits – the scent was strange, and it left her feeling particularly uncertain; she did not open the door further. "Have you been drinking?"

Gibbs shook his head fiercely. "No, Jen. I just wanted to talk." It was the scent of a man who had wandered, aimless; through the crowds of late night partiers and kept the same space as them on the close-packed night trains. From the paper bag in his right hand he drew a coffee cup, as gently and as poignantly as Arthur had pulled Excalibur from the stone. "It's decaffeinated, I promise."

She took it.

Jenny had no idea when she'd opened the door or let him into her home, the place she sought sanctuary from the menacing world outside. She had no idea that she'd allowed him into deepest depths of that sanctuary, the place she felt safest, until she heard the front door close and then he stood, on the doorway to her room, not wanting to enter or to seem to become part of a place so personal until he was sure she trusted him. "Jen, I'm sorry."

Her eyes widened more than they had in a long time, almost painful at the rate at which she looked up and found his deep blues, searching for the truth in them, desperately searching for the guilt that he held over this, wishing she could already take back her earlier words. "What for? I should be asking your forgiveness. I lied."

Jethro simply shook his head, there were no more words required.

"How…" She could not find the words, instead taking a sip of the coffee, currently warming her ice-cold hands. She fiddled nervously, shivers running through her body; the temperature in the room was below cold, whether it was from opening the front door and inviting in all the cool breezes or it was seeping from her she could not be sure, but she would not rule out either.

Moved by the sheer unbidden fear he saw in front of him, he crossed the room, no delicacy in his step, no hesitance in his actions. The night already full of simple metaphors he continued the trend, touching her skin, so cold it no longer seemed to burn him or shun him away with the electricity it had before, instead it was the skin of a woman afraid, and who needed to be simply held. He pulled her still form into his body, sharing his warmth through his engulfing hold. "Jen," he muttered into her hair, "you're not alone."

Stunned by his overwhelming care, she soaked up the warmth, the scent she knew, still there but buried under everything else; it comforted her. Not physically moving, she allowed herself to be absorbed into the moment, absorbed into him. Her words were almost incoherently whispered, but he could feel her words against the skin of his neck, the vibrations moving through him. "I'm scared of all this, Jethro." His hand found the curve of her belly, gently touching, running his hand across the new shape with awe, with sheer amazement of the life that was held there.

He pressed a kiss to her hair, breathing out his understanding to her; pulling away the slightest bit, she looked up to him, seeing the true truth in those eyes, his unspoken promise to her. He had never been more breathtaking than in that moment, she saw the forgiveness and the hope merged together, the supreme power of it reflecting in her own precious emeralds. A second kiss was pressed to her cheek, and then another to the other; she tried to speak, the need to talk all of their newfound secrets through was ebbing at her, but she was silenced by a finger against her lips, he held her face in his hands and her eyes slid shut, in turn a kiss was placed to each. The anticipation in her rose as she knew what was coming next and awaited it with another nervous shiver, having her eyes closed was heightening all of her other senses, each of them slowly warming up. He breathed against her lips, little blows of air that held each of his words: "Talk later, Jen." She nodded in response, not sure she could ever choose to do anything else.

Finally the kiss came, his lips touching hers ever so lightly, fleeting touches that tested the waters. The second one came, this time he only grazed his lips over hers, rubbing his nose caressingly on hers. The third kiss was something more, an urgency present in it which she could respond to, parting her lips ever so slightly, urging Jethro to take control, to take it further, nipping her way across his top lip. The response did not come, he pulled back and her eyes fluttered open in regret, only to meet his smiling face, cautiously reassuring her that nothing was wrong. "Jethro?"

His hands fell from cupping her face and took her cool gentle fingers into his. "Do you want this?"

She nodded, unable to form words at the realisation that this was really happening. That what she'd been craving for so long stood freely in front of her.

"Then I think that we should take this upstairs – do it right this time." If she were not transfixed by the disbelief, she imagined that she would have giggled hysterically, like a young girl at how overwhelmed and joyful she was.

Interlocking her fingers with his, she turned, and led him from the study, never once letting the contact break or dislodge in the slightest, his larger worked hands tightly holding her smaller lighter ones; there were no sounds around her, no other movements in the house, not even the slightest draft touched her skin except one that escaped his mouth in unheard whispered words.

Jenny pulled him to her in the bedroom, initiating the first touch herself, grasping his neck and pulling him down towards her; she did not keep the pace as it had been before, instead listening to the low hum of her body she kissed him open-mouthed, that coil building steadily in the base of her stomach, making her feel weightless. He responded to her with an equal hunger, the time in which they had not been together weighing heavily on both of their actions.

Her tongue slipped lazily past his lips as she took control, mounting the heat building at her core, her tongue stoking dominatingly past its partner elicited just the smallest of moans from Jethro and drew a large smile against his lips, gratified at her achievement she traced her hands over the rippling muscles under his shirt, and trailed her fingers upwards, taking the unwanted material of his shirt with them. She withdrew from the kiss only for a lack of oxygen so great that she dizzied on her feet, pulling him with her as she fell back onto the bed; the springs below them complaining and shoving back against the two bodies weighing down on them, but neither noticed, too occupied in removing their clothing – there was far too much of it.

Swished over her head, her nightdress was tossed aside with the least care in the world; a trail of kisses trawled down her neck. She pulled him flush against her, mindful of her bump, the touch of bare skin on skin igniting the nerves all over her body as she sought out his lips again, darting her tongue inside to taste him once more, to reassure her this was real. One of his hands found its way between them and she arched her full body into him as the rough calloused tips of his fingers traced against her sensitive nipple; through his jeans she could feel the pressure of his erection against her thigh, the feeling alone sending her crazy with desire, bucking once more against his hips told him of her urgency, the darkness in her eyes almost swallowing him.

Nimble fingers pulled at the offending item, trying desperately to undo the button and then sought out the zipper. Reaching her target, Jenny forced her tongue into his mouth as those same fingers delved beneath the line of his boxers, grasping him tightly and bending him to her will. The heat between her legs was reaching dangerous levels and she responded appropriately, attempting to tear both items as they came down his legs. As soon as he was free of the restricting materials she pulled him back to her like a raging wild fire; not for a moment stifling the groan that escaped her as his fingers probed cautiously before slipping fully inside of her, adding to the already furious fire in her stomach, picking up the pace and nearing her to the edge, but it was not enough for her, she wanted him now. "Jethro."

The throaty warning was one he smirked at, it was sexy and full of desire, as much as he enjoyed it, he took heed of her words and acted upon them. Ready, he watched the ecstasy that crossed her beautiful face as he plunged inside her warm tunnel, moving the pace faster and faster, meeting the angle of her hips as she demanded more. He captured her lips, withdrawing and plunging in once more in time for her to come tightly around him, squeezing against him and the waves of pleasure driving him over the edge in pure bliss, her scream echoing around his mouth, the vibrations driving him crazy.

Collapsing down on top of her delicate body, he fell slightly to the side, careful of her baby bump, and ensuring that he did not bring too much of his weight onto her. Jenny slowly blinked open her eyes, closed as she rode out the last waves of her orgasm, warm inside and out she watched as her child's father lay himself beside her, slipping from her and pressing a gentle kiss to her belly. As his face neared hers, she stole one more kiss, one to tell him exactly what that had meant to her.

Curled up, finally, in his arms, the beginnings of sleep began to visit her, and soon they engulfed her into their midst, finally arriving in the hours left before morning. Jethro caught a glimpse of something as it reflected the light dripping in through the curtains, the shiny image defying his logic of much needed sleep and demanding his attention. He allowed his eyes to behold the sight with wonder, noting all the features he could through his half-dreaming eyes, seeing the name beside it written in that fairytale script of hers and approving. The name remaining firmly at the shoreline of his mind long after sleep had absorbed him too.

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

A/N - guys, this is an **important** notice.

I'm going to be taking a break from Stones and Mosaics for a few weeks so that I can get my head in gear and sort out what's going to happen next - I'm aware that some of you may want more soon, but it's in the best interests of the story that I do some planning before I carry on cos I may muck it up otherwise. Bear with me a while.

I hope to hear from you all, reviews are love for me and they wil help with the creative exercise. You know where that purple button is.


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